Wow, the bus I almost took home was stopped ahead of the bus I actually took home this evening because of some kind of medical emergency. It stopped ahead of mine and there was a fire truck and an ambulance next to it. They let most of the people off the bus and I saw a defibrillator and a gurney trucked out. I guess a passenger had a heart attack, although I didn't stay to see -- when my bus was stopped behind that other bus, the driver opened the doors to let the other passengers on, and I got out and walked home, since it was close enough to get there.
Exene's still sick, as I said; she may be reacting to the antibiotics she's taking, although we'll see. The doctors are still up in arms about what exactly is wrong with her; she's going to see another specialist next week. Weird shit.
B2 accidentally stomped on my bad toe this evening, which made it bleed (again). Aargh! I knew what was gonna happen!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Bus
There's a guy on the bus who is terminally preppie, and who somewhat resembles what's his name -- Christian Bale -- the kid totally looks like him except that it's is "American Psycho" incarnation. Anyway, it's disturbing to me, as he often hits my morning or evening commute, and he really calls to mind "American Psycho." This morning, I saw that he has a tattoo of his frat's letters at his ankle (which I could see because he's wearing his loafers without socks). That's astoundingly lame, like the lameness trifecta: ankle frat tat. And that he looks so "American Psycho," it adds to that psycho vibe even more.
Oh, and remember that couple I saw on the bus a few times, the leonine babe with the odd cheek piercing? (sorry, I'm not back-linking on it -- it was a month or so ago) I was wondering their ethnicity? Well, the guy is French, so odds are she is, too. I saw because he had his ID badge at his belt and I saw his name and where he works, and he's definitely French. I was pleased that I saw that, answering my own question.
Oh, and remember that couple I saw on the bus a few times, the leonine babe with the odd cheek piercing? (sorry, I'm not back-linking on it -- it was a month or so ago) I was wondering their ethnicity? Well, the guy is French, so odds are she is, too. I saw because he had his ID badge at his belt and I saw his name and where he works, and he's definitely French. I was pleased that I saw that, answering my own question.
More on Wonder Woman
SALON's Broadsheet groused about the new Wonder Woman duds, which I understand. Wonder Woman without her characteristic look is less wonderful! I wonder how long this look'll last?
Bored.
Let me just come out and say it: I AM BORED. Fucking bored. Damned bored.
I got used to that fix of World Cup action during my workday, and now I have to wait until Friday for the next match. WTF? Seriously. I'm so bored, I'd watch Brazil v. Portugal again. I'd watch England v. Algeria. I'd watch Paraguay v. Japan. Just to have something on during the workday.
I don't know what I'm going to do when the World Cup's over (July 11). How'm I going to possibly navigate my workday?
Oh, and you sourpusses who're like "How about doing your job?" -- I would point out that I came up with an elegant system whereby I actually managed to be more productive than normal while watching games. I worked it out.
But right now, I'm fucking bored. I'm going to be super-bored tomorrow, too. Lordy.
The last World Cup, I had my first real blogs (both of which were immolated by me around 2007, in a fit of blog-loathing). So I don't even have that to fall back on for comfort.
Another coworker and I were joking about it, talking about how we felt listless and irritable without our soccer fix. And then I found out that FIFA's store were apparently out of the Cameroon t-shirts I ordered. Yes, Cameroon were out of it (unfortunately -- I liked how they played, and it's fun to say "Cameroon" -- try it. Say it. Fucking SAY IT. See? "Cameroon."), but I can't even get a shirt? It's like the terrorists have already won. FIFA fucked me on that Cameroon tee as surely as they fucked England with that goal against Germany.
So, here I am, drinking water and eating a little bag of Cheetos, and I'm completely fucking bored. Oh, I guess I'll get back to work.
Also, I'd tune into NPR, but they're doing a fundraising drive, so there's THAT, too. WTF? It's like the Cosmos is busy trying to bore the fuck out of me, just to see what I'll do next.
I got used to that fix of World Cup action during my workday, and now I have to wait until Friday for the next match. WTF? Seriously. I'm so bored, I'd watch Brazil v. Portugal again. I'd watch England v. Algeria. I'd watch Paraguay v. Japan. Just to have something on during the workday.
I don't know what I'm going to do when the World Cup's over (July 11). How'm I going to possibly navigate my workday?
Oh, and you sourpusses who're like "How about doing your job?" -- I would point out that I came up with an elegant system whereby I actually managed to be more productive than normal while watching games. I worked it out.
But right now, I'm fucking bored. I'm going to be super-bored tomorrow, too. Lordy.
The last World Cup, I had my first real blogs (both of which were immolated by me around 2007, in a fit of blog-loathing). So I don't even have that to fall back on for comfort.
Another coworker and I were joking about it, talking about how we felt listless and irritable without our soccer fix. And then I found out that FIFA's store were apparently out of the Cameroon t-shirts I ordered. Yes, Cameroon were out of it (unfortunately -- I liked how they played, and it's fun to say "Cameroon" -- try it. Say it. Fucking SAY IT. See? "Cameroon."), but I can't even get a shirt? It's like the terrorists have already won. FIFA fucked me on that Cameroon tee as surely as they fucked England with that goal against Germany.
So, here I am, drinking water and eating a little bag of Cheetos, and I'm completely fucking bored. Oh, I guess I'll get back to work.
Also, I'd tune into NPR, but they're doing a fundraising drive, so there's THAT, too. WTF? It's like the Cosmos is busy trying to bore the fuck out of me, just to see what I'll do next.
Grumble
I'm jonesing for some fucking World Cup, and have to wait until Friday for my fix. Sigh. Next to the Olympics for me is the World Cup -- I love the international events, makes me glad to see the rest of the world. The US is so insular and parochial -- it's nice to see us out in the big, bad world.
So, Exene's still sick. She responded somewhat to the meds they gave her, but the symptoms haven't vanished -- still swollen glands at the neck, night sweats, sore joints, fever, loss of appetite. She's 121 lbs. right now. She's got some follow-up appointments with doctors. She's peeved. We'll see how it develops. All of the infectious disease tests they did (and they did a lot) came up negative. Not sure what to make of it all, exactly.
There's the Exene people think they know, and there's the Exene I know/knew, and there's whatever she actually is, somebody nobody but her actually knows. I know her better than anybody (including her family), but even I only know a sliver of whatever is actually going on behind the mask she wears. That Exene (or those Exenes) will be colliding in the face of something serious, healthwise.
I've been productive on some prose fiction -- a book I'm working on. I shelved the screenplay; it was nagging at me, and I don't want to pay to enter it into a competition only to lose and be out that money at a time when money's at a premium for me. I'm comfier in short story writing and novel-writing, so I'm staying in that primarily at the moment, even though the opportunities for me to be noticed seem as remote as ever. We'll see.
So, Exene's still sick. She responded somewhat to the meds they gave her, but the symptoms haven't vanished -- still swollen glands at the neck, night sweats, sore joints, fever, loss of appetite. She's 121 lbs. right now. She's got some follow-up appointments with doctors. She's peeved. We'll see how it develops. All of the infectious disease tests they did (and they did a lot) came up negative. Not sure what to make of it all, exactly.
There's the Exene people think they know, and there's the Exene I know/knew, and there's whatever she actually is, somebody nobody but her actually knows. I know her better than anybody (including her family), but even I only know a sliver of whatever is actually going on behind the mask she wears. That Exene (or those Exenes) will be colliding in the face of something serious, healthwise.
I've been productive on some prose fiction -- a book I'm working on. I shelved the screenplay; it was nagging at me, and I don't want to pay to enter it into a competition only to lose and be out that money at a time when money's at a premium for me. I'm comfier in short story writing and novel-writing, so I'm staying in that primarily at the moment, even though the opportunities for me to be noticed seem as remote as ever. We'll see.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Worldly
Spain won! Yay! (1 - 0 over Portugal, no mean feat, given Portugal's great defense) So, we're in the quarterfinals, now. I'm rooting for...
With Germany, I'm supporting their dynamic, attacking style of play. They're a young team, but have played with remarkable tactical finesse that is impressive to watch. Their match against Argentina should be fucking cool, as Argentina is very much of an attacking team. I think Spain should be able to stomp Paraguay, judging from how Paraguay has played (very, very defensive -- Portugal, the #3 ranked team tried that against #2 ranked Spain, and lost -- I think Spain should beat'em).
Ghana is another young team, and they are the little engine that could -- bold, dynamic play. Not nearly as tactically ironclad as the other teams I've seen play; they tend to rely on a strong offense, versus positional play like, say, the Dutch (or, surprisingly, Brazil). They should be able to smoke Uruguay -- which is a little bittersweet, because if the US had managed to advance past Ghana, we could've been up against Uruguay, who would've been arguably easier than anybody else we had to face.
The Brazil v. Holland match could be cool if Brazil kicks it up another notch, or it could be excruciating, if they just mutually grind against each other in this positional, tactical kind of play that depends on the other side making a grievous error for your side to win. We'll see. Or I'll see, anyway.
We're nearing the last week of the World Cup, which is, after the Olympics, my favorite sporting event. I just love the international spirit of it, seeing those teams go at it (and it's only every four years, so you only have to see me nattering on about it once every four years -- hahah!)
The final match is July 11, which'll have me in North Carolina with the boys, visiting my family at my older stepsister's summer place. I already told my folks we totally have to watch that final match, which'll surely be more soccer than my family can handle, but I'm sooo not missing it.
- Spain
- Ghana
- Germany
With Germany, I'm supporting their dynamic, attacking style of play. They're a young team, but have played with remarkable tactical finesse that is impressive to watch. Their match against Argentina should be fucking cool, as Argentina is very much of an attacking team. I think Spain should be able to stomp Paraguay, judging from how Paraguay has played (very, very defensive -- Portugal, the #3 ranked team tried that against #2 ranked Spain, and lost -- I think Spain should beat'em).
Ghana is another young team, and they are the little engine that could -- bold, dynamic play. Not nearly as tactically ironclad as the other teams I've seen play; they tend to rely on a strong offense, versus positional play like, say, the Dutch (or, surprisingly, Brazil). They should be able to smoke Uruguay -- which is a little bittersweet, because if the US had managed to advance past Ghana, we could've been up against Uruguay, who would've been arguably easier than anybody else we had to face.
The Brazil v. Holland match could be cool if Brazil kicks it up another notch, or it could be excruciating, if they just mutually grind against each other in this positional, tactical kind of play that depends on the other side making a grievous error for your side to win. We'll see. Or I'll see, anyway.
We're nearing the last week of the World Cup, which is, after the Olympics, my favorite sporting event. I just love the international spirit of it, seeing those teams go at it (and it's only every four years, so you only have to see me nattering on about it once every four years -- hahah!)
The final match is July 11, which'll have me in North Carolina with the boys, visiting my family at my older stepsister's summer place. I already told my folks we totally have to watch that final match, which'll surely be more soccer than my family can handle, but I'm sooo not missing it.
This and that
I'm about to watch Spain v. Portugal. I sure hope Spain beats'em!
I love how my left foot is nearly better from the hairline split last month, and then I fuck up that toenail on my right foot! D'oh!
I got to work on some fiction last night, which always makes me feel good. I love writing. I'm going to write every damned story I have in my head, just get'em all down on paper, and see what I can do with them. My peril is always that I love the art of writing, but not the business of it -- I try to write good fiction, but I'm not so good at self-promotion and marketing. Gruh. I need to tackle that and get aggressive about it.
B2 is going to be a skilled musician. I can see it already. He's naturally dextrous and is a born performer (for example, he's playing on the toy piano, a "song" he made, and then when he's done, he says "Okay, CLAP!" I usually applaud, anyway, but if it's not forthcoming, he exhorts the applause). And when he sees any new instrument, he wants to know how to do it, asks me how to play it, and I show him, and he picks up on it immediately. He and I were playing a vuvuzela duet this morning (not full-on playing it, more like using it as a megaphone, since if you actually play it properly, you only get that B flat) -- I'd play a melody, and B2 would match the melody I played. He loved going back and forth with that. Love it. I can see him doing that, can see him acting, can see him being a chef, and something athletic. He's a natural with that stuff -- that blend of dexterity and charisma -- and he's naturally assertive (and is a total diva). I see it so clearly.
B1 is more complicated -- very smart, very sensitive, he keeps so much of of himself in reserve on some level. He's open and accessible and is, in his own sweet way, very willful. But what he honestly likes to do is a little less clear than it is with his baby brother. I can see B1 being a doctor, engineer, architect -- something like that. He's interested in systems and a sense of order, and has a warm and open personality -- and yet, he also keeps a lot of it close to the vest. In that way, he's a lot like his mom. My task is to encourage him to explore and really find what he enjoys and is good at. He was playing on the toy piano the other day, and was curious about the scales -- I walked him through some of the ones I knew, just so he could hear them. I think the internal order of them intrigued him.
B1 mastered the proper vuvuzela sound immediately, which was cute to see and hear. I'm always going to encourage my boys to explore and really stretch themselves.
Off to watch Spain v. Portugal!
I love how my left foot is nearly better from the hairline split last month, and then I fuck up that toenail on my right foot! D'oh!
I got to work on some fiction last night, which always makes me feel good. I love writing. I'm going to write every damned story I have in my head, just get'em all down on paper, and see what I can do with them. My peril is always that I love the art of writing, but not the business of it -- I try to write good fiction, but I'm not so good at self-promotion and marketing. Gruh. I need to tackle that and get aggressive about it.
B2 is going to be a skilled musician. I can see it already. He's naturally dextrous and is a born performer (for example, he's playing on the toy piano, a "song" he made, and then when he's done, he says "Okay, CLAP!" I usually applaud, anyway, but if it's not forthcoming, he exhorts the applause). And when he sees any new instrument, he wants to know how to do it, asks me how to play it, and I show him, and he picks up on it immediately. He and I were playing a vuvuzela duet this morning (not full-on playing it, more like using it as a megaphone, since if you actually play it properly, you only get that B flat) -- I'd play a melody, and B2 would match the melody I played. He loved going back and forth with that. Love it. I can see him doing that, can see him acting, can see him being a chef, and something athletic. He's a natural with that stuff -- that blend of dexterity and charisma -- and he's naturally assertive (and is a total diva). I see it so clearly.
B1 is more complicated -- very smart, very sensitive, he keeps so much of of himself in reserve on some level. He's open and accessible and is, in his own sweet way, very willful. But what he honestly likes to do is a little less clear than it is with his baby brother. I can see B1 being a doctor, engineer, architect -- something like that. He's interested in systems and a sense of order, and has a warm and open personality -- and yet, he also keeps a lot of it close to the vest. In that way, he's a lot like his mom. My task is to encourage him to explore and really find what he enjoys and is good at. He was playing on the toy piano the other day, and was curious about the scales -- I walked him through some of the ones I knew, just so he could hear them. I think the internal order of them intrigued him.
B1 mastered the proper vuvuzela sound immediately, which was cute to see and hear. I'm always going to encourage my boys to explore and really stretch themselves.
Off to watch Spain v. Portugal!
Sonshine
Monday, June 28, 2010
*BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRZT*
The boys' (and, hee hee, my) vuvuzelas arrived! Two green, and one orange. The boys loved'em, began blaring them immediately. I showed them how to "play" them, had them aim them at Exene.
She grumbled "NOT an Elvish instrument." *BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRZT*
She grumbled "NOT an Elvish instrument." *BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRZT*
Univision
I have to say that Univision gives the best coverage of the World Cup. Who cares that I can't speak Spanish?! I'm amused that they have special-issue team soccer kits for the babes!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I believe it!
http://www.salon.com/books/nonfiction/index.html?story=/books/feature/2010/06/27/sex_at_dawn_interview
Although I'm more of a serial monogamist, in some way, shape, or form. Still, I think their critiques of American conceptions of love, sex, and marriage and what-not are on the mark.
Although I'm more of a serial monogamist, in some way, shape, or form. Still, I think their critiques of American conceptions of love, sex, and marriage and what-not are on the mark.
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