You are currently browsing the monthly archive for June 2009.
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Older Charge (upon seeing my new handbag): I’ve never seen a purple purse! I like that!
Younger Charge: Purple is my favorite color! No wait, what is that other color that’s like purple?
Older Charge: Blue?
Younger Charge: No…
Me: Pink?
Younger Charge: No, that other color. Like that on that picture (points to a drawing on the table.) Green.
Older Charge: Green?
Younger Charge: Yes, green! Green is my favorite color!
Older Charge: But green isn’t like purple at all.
Younger Charge (angrily): It is to me.
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I was at Borders this week and was surprised to see a newly-minted copy of this book on the shelves:
When I was in junior high, this book was widely circulated among my friends and peers. It was purported to be the real diary of a girl who falls in with the ever-warned-against-by-our-parents “wrong crowd”, gets hooked on drugs but is redeemed at the end, when she realizes the error of her ways and gets clean. I fully believed that it was a real teenager’s diary and agonized at the abrupt ending, in which a unwitting Alice gets handed a “dosed” soft drink at some hippie party and od’s. Perfect for my adolescent, tragedy-loving soul.
Some time after graduating from college, I found a copy of the book at a thrift store and upon re-reading it, I remember thinking that the book’s overly-moralistic tone and writing style didn’t ring true somehow. Well, I just found out why. The book was actually written by one BEATRICE SPARKS, a Mormon, self-proclaimed psychologist of questionable credentials, who apparently wrote and published many of these “real” diaries through the 60’s and 70’s.
There’s a good dissection of Sparks and her fraud (and the enduring popularity of Go Ask Alice) HERE. All of which makes me wonder if James Frey and Laura Albert wish they’d stuck to writing and kept their mouths shut.
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YEP.
Celebrageddon™ continues, although Death now seems to be concentrating on the D-List. Whatever. As long as it swings back around and wields the mighty scythe of doom at Madonna or Oprah next, I’m cool with it.
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Baby Charge’s party was fun but it lead to a new discovery of my limits – two beers + afternoon heat = exhaustion. I was wiped out after just a couple of hours…but managed to rally when some friends called us to say they were over at our FAVORITE LOCAL HANGOUT. Beer and laughs were had, then sleep was had. We got up this morning and met some other friends at ENOTECA for brunch…our friend Erik ordered coffee AND a Bloody Mary – I had just ordered coffee, with plans for a Bloody Mary to follow but I liked his idea of the recovery beverage/hair of the dog combo, so I followed suit. And guess what? I have a headache now and will napping shortly. Quelle surprise.
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I worked through my travel angst and have booked another Chicago trip for the end of July. Now that Mystery Bros. kids are older and my sister’s kids are about to scatter for college, these big reunions are going to be fewer and farther between and I didn’t want to miss out. My mom is thrilled that all of her little chickies and 2nd-generation chickies will be home to roost for a week or so. She called me today to ask if S. and I needed anything from Sam’s Club. Uh, no….
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I want to leave you with this home movie CLAUDIA sent me. I think she’s the girl feeding part of her sandwich to a dog, then offering the rest to her friend. Enjoy.
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Saw the charges this week for the first time since their beloved grandmother’s death. Tears were shed and conversations were had about how exactly one gets to heaven, who you see there, how old you are when your parents die, who cried at the funeral, and so on. I think oldest charge is handling it pretty well – we had a very tearful hug when I first saw him on Thursday. Younger charge, is, I think, having a harder time. I think it’s easier for older kids to accept abstract concepts than it is for younger – or at least for this particular kid. Anyhow, they are getting through it and I was very happy to see them and their folks.
Baby charge sprouted two new teeth while they were gone and continues to be the cutest baby in Austin. (Sorry other Austin babies, it’s a fact, and if it were appropriate to post a picture to prove it I would.) His first birthday party was delayed due to the other events, but today is party day. There will be cake, booze, slip & slides and I am sure the entire family is ready to celebrate a happy occasion.
I am feeling much sympathy and empathy for the charges’ mom right now – I still remember very clearly the haze of emotions immediately after my dad died – the death of a parent has to be one of the most surreal things one can go through.
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That’s about all I have for you, internet. Unless you want to hear about the hot weather again. I know I don’t. Tally ho.
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I am somewhat indifferent about Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson but I will tell you which celebrity death did give me pause today. The one you probably didn’t hear about.
SKY SAXON, lead singer and bassist of seminal garage rockers The Seeds died this morning here in Austin. I first heard The Seeds via Mystery Brother, who was a big fan. Pushin’ Too Hard was, is and will always be one of my favorite songs. So here’s to Sky and the rest of them…and let’s all pray that Madonna is next.
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Do you hear that, America? It’s the sound of WEE BABY JINGLES wending his way home to his mama, CLAUDIA. Oh sure, Jingles has undergone a few changes since he was last seen, but oh, how he wanted to go home…by any means necessary. Bwahahahahhahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
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So, besides snakes and snake dreams, what do we have in Lassville these days? Well, last night, I dreamed about floods again. Specifically, a flooding river from which I saved a cat. I thought it was Stevie but after I jumped into the water and grabbed it, realized it was the late, lamented Puffball…a cat I had about 15 years ago.
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Am I boring you with all this nightmare chatter? And more to the point, what is my problem these days? I have been a bit blue over the past few weeks – due in roughly equal parts to the following:
1. Father’s Day
2. Death of charges’ grandma
3. Writing paralysis on the big project
4. Cabin fever due to extreme heat which makes doing anything outside very unpleasant
5. Lethargy induced by #4
6. Insomnia induced by #’s 1-5
7. Insert your guess here
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My bummed-ness was compounded today when I realized that my entire family will be converging in Chicago two weeks AFTER I’m there in July. I actually have that week off and am toying with the idea of going back up but I’m not sure I want to lay out the heavy cash on another plane ticket. The trip in early July is going to be expensive because we’re renting a truck to drive back to Texas (I’m getting the last of my haul from my Dad’s stuff). I feel like I should just suck it up and buy another ticket because it’s going to be one of the last times we’re all together for a while.
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In summation: Jingles, nightmares, in a funk. The end.
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Had a nightmare in which I was pulling dead foliage off a tree in front of the house and as it fell down on me, I realized there were also several large snakes in the tree…snakes that fell to the ground and sat there, staring at me. Now, before you amateur Freuds make your dick jokes, I looked up “snakes” in my dream dictionary this morning and they relate to fear and healing…both of which I can relate to my waking life these days. Here’s the weird thing: I went out early this morning to water the lovely ABELIA plant S. bought me and when I went to turn on the hose…there was a snake curled up right next to it. I jumped back and it slithered under the house. Oh joyous day. This makes three snake sightings in or near our yard in about two months and that’s enough for me. Stay away from me, snakes!
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Spent part of this morning readying the charges’ house for their return tomorrow. I spoke with their mom this morning and it sounds like everyone is ready to get back into a normal routine – especially the kids. All of this has brought back memories of my dad’s death — I have so much sympathy for the tasks that lie ahead for her and her family as far as going through her mom’s stuff, etc. There’s a lot to be done after someone dies and in some ways, it just makes for a protracted grieving process and I know how hard that can be.
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I put a bid in on a Gooroo job earlier this week solely because the project sounded really bizarre – is that wrong? I hope not, because I think I bid low enough that I might end up actually doing it. I will post details when I can.
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Any sinners out there wishing for a preview of your future in Hell? Then come to Austin and enjoy our third week of over-100 temperatures. While my tolerance for heat is generally better than my tolerance for cold, this shit is getting old.
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Also, where the hell is everyone? One comment yesterday? You know, even chimps have feelings. Feelings that can be easily hurt and lead to poo-flinging. Just sayin’.
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That’s all I have for you today, interwebs. Tally ho.
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Oh, hi. Spent Friday and Saturday running errands and spent yesterday in a funk…wasted some time on Bookworm and Facebook, wrote some letters, talked with my sister, the end. I could have written expansive entries on all of those activities but in a rare magninamous move, I spared you, internet. You can thank me later.
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What I would like to talk to you about today is jewelry. Specifically, the kick-ass jewelry made by my friend and recent traveling companion, Susan. Working under the name RED I JEWELRY, Susan makes all of the pieces by hand and, well, just LOOK! AT THIS! STUFF! I bought this bracelet from her on our trip and have hardly taken it off since:
The weight of her pieces, particularly the bracelets, feels good. Really good. Susan’s work uses a mix of re-purposed vintage chains and beads as well as silver and gold pieces cast from old costume jewelry finds. Susan is a the sole proprietor of her business and while I don’t frequently promote my friends’ endeavors, I wanted to give her a shout out. She is also a beautiful person in every sense of that word and can drive the shit out of a rental car through the mean streets of NYC. So check out her stuff and keep Red I in mind when you want to treat yourself or someone else.
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The other news today is that the charges’ maternal grandmother died early this morning. I’ve been tossing around how much – if anything – I should say here because I want to respect the family’s privacy. So, I think I will just say that she was a smart, funny, wonderful woman and hers will be an immeasurable loss for her husband, kids and grandkids. I would also like to request that fate give this family a break.
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Here’s the run-down.
1. Juror members were to arrive at 8:30. We had to wait until 9:15 for the final straggler to arrive. How big of a bitch am I? This big: when she came up to me, looking sheepish, and said, “Oh, was everyone waiting for me?!” I said, “Yes, and the clerk just told as that the last one here is usually the first one picked.”
2. One of the potential jurors spent our heel-cooling time alternately pacing the hall, rearranging pushpins on the bulletin board outside the court,tapping her heels, picking at her nails and rifling through a file of papers. She had both the look and the demeanor of a meth head, which made me wish I had thought of acting that way.
2. The judge came out and informed us that he thought serving jury duty was the second most important thing we could be doing short of “fighting in the Iraq war”. Did I audibly snicker? Yes, I did. As did several other potential jurors.
3. The plaintiff was escorted into the hallway and then into court by a sheriff’s deputy. This struck me as odd. I had already looked at the docket (it was posted on a bulletin board outside the courtroom) so I knew the case involved an auto accident. The plaintiff was rear-ended in 2004…and in comments during voir dire he volunteered that A) He was a Vietnam vet, B) Ow, his neck still hurt and even though a doctor said it could have been an old injury he KNOWS it was from this fender-bender and C) no less than three attorneys had quit/given up on him…so he was representing himself. As soon as the defendant’s attorney got up and (I swear to god this is true) had uttered exactly two words to the jury, the plaintiff literally jumped out of his seat and shouted, “OBJECTION!”. Sit down, crazy ass, the trial hasn’t even started.
4. The judge asked us individually if we thought we could be impartial and when he came to me I said, “Frankly, no, this seems like a waste of everyone’s time.”
5. A 20-min. recess was called. We came back in and surprise, I was the first one they let go. One of my fellow excused jurors, an elderly man with whom I had chatted prior to court being called into session, walked up to me in the hallway and said, “Was that you that said it was a waste of time?” and I said, “Yes.” He said, “When I heard that, I thought, ‘good for you!’. That trial would have been day upon day of craziness.” Indeed, kind sir.
The.End.
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