100th Post Navel-Gaze Extravaganza
Happy 100th post to me.Happy 100th post to me.
It only took seventeen freaking months to get heeeeere.
Happy 100th post to me.
Fweeeeeet!
1. Why do patrons of the pizza place down the block feel the need to drive their cars directly up onto the sidewalk? If you're gonna jump your Buick over an 8" curb, ruining your suspension and terrifying local urchins, it'd BETTER be because you're there for, say, an ice-chilled human kidney, NOT an extra-large buffalo-ranch and an order of cheese fries.
2. Would it make me uncool to admit that I find The Shins just as annoying as their primary-colored countrymen, The Wiggles?
3. So assuming I continue to Do It, rather than, say, joining a nunnery, or taking an abstinence pledge (HA!... [spurts diet Coke out of every facial orifice]) or just covering up that whole region with fiberglass tape and DAP... my next "number" is a personally significant one. Ala, "It's my lucky number," or "Hey, 365 days in a year, and now 365 notches on the ol' bedpost!" (erm, I jest). As my writing tends to be stark-raving open and honest, I feel that this would make a fairly awesome "reflection" post. Yet the thought of disseminating that particular figure far and wide strikes me as unseemly. And I'm the person who wrote about random fellatio in a Hyundai Accent! Thoughts?
4. My friends and family rock harder than a Pantera reunion show in Luray Caverns. Which is to say: HARD. I was Legitimately Sad today - not chemically imbalanced, not whining about my lack of post-doctoral work and Nobel nominations - just, y'know, circumstantially heartsick. I know! Surprised me, too. In any event, this afternoon, my friend M. took me out for chicken tenders swathed in ham and Swiss. Several hours later, Pixie treated me to a meal which opened with pierogies, featured guest appearances by bacon and stuffing, and concluded with a rousing finale of FRIED. CARAMEL-FILLED. CHEESECAKE. SITTINGINAPOOLOFCHOCOLATESAUCEAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH.
I'm feeling slightly less bummed, but I think it's because blood is having a hard time making it past all the grease and reaching my brain.
5. Question for my readers in the literary sphere: do I focus more on attaining publication of any stripe (polishing up essays/non-fic stuff, etc.), or on penning big-ass masterwork, then shopping it around? There are a limited number of hours in the day, damn it. Especially when one is destined to spend a number of them curled up in the fetal position, whining, "Owwwww... fucking fried cheesecake!"
6. Haircolor du jour: NaturTint's "Fireland". I was headed to the Whole Foods checkout when I spied its fiery majesty and was forced to toss a box atop my usual comestibles. It looks pretty awesome, but I'm kind of the opposite of the average Whole Foods patron in that I trust "natural" products a lot LESS than lab-formulated, possibly-carcinogenic ones. I'm a little afraid it will fade or bleed or inspire gnats to make sweet, sweet love to my head. Couldn't they have at least tossed a FEW harsh synthetic chemicals in there?
7. Worst music-as-relates-to-life quote ever, from high school friend's summer suitor, re: "Freebird": "I love this song, 'cause it reminds me of me!" (Second worst, 'though fully unintentional, my mother, re: Massive Attack's "Dissolved Girl": "This song reminds me of you." OH LORD, PLEASE LET IT NO LONGER BE THE CASE.)
8. Question for my readers in the child-development sphere: I once read that "speed of language acquisition" is the only developmental area with a direct correlation to later intelligence. True, or utter shit propagated by the makers of educational toys? I ask because J.Q. is not yet two and is speaking in full sentences (while at a friend's house: "Menita! Diaper... poop! Change it!"). If he is going to be a freaky little genius, perhaps I should start funneling my money into an MIT fund rather than wasting it on frivolities such as "rent".
9. Morality Quiz, And Be Honest: do you find that your feelings of guilt primarily stem from fear of being "caught"/exposed or actual remorse? Perhaps I am a monster (but a fetchingly crimson-headed one who produces brilliant offspring!), but I must admit that my guilt is usually of the former variety. I HAVE felt genuine remorse, but very, very infrequently. It takes a truly heinous act for me to feel the urge to atone, rather than shrugging, "Eh, shit happens. I wonder if there's any more goat gouda in the fridge?"
10. Favorite posts from the past seventeen months of angst and amusement? Requests? I'm open to anything but "Freebird".
4. My friends and family rock harder than a Pantera reunion show in Luray Caverns. Which is to say: HARD. I was Legitimately Sad today - not chemically imbalanced, not whining about my lack of post-doctoral work and Nobel nominations - just, y'know, circumstantially heartsick. I know! Surprised me, too. In any event, this afternoon, my friend M. took me out for chicken tenders swathed in ham and Swiss. Several hours later, Pixie treated me to a meal which opened with pierogies, featured guest appearances by bacon and stuffing, and concluded with a rousing finale of FRIED. CARAMEL-FILLED. CHEESECAKE. SITTINGINAPOOLOFCHOCOLATESAUCEAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH.
I'm feeling slightly less bummed, but I think it's because blood is having a hard time making it past all the grease and reaching my brain.
5. Question for my readers in the literary sphere: do I focus more on attaining publication of any stripe (polishing up essays/non-fic stuff, etc.), or on penning big-ass masterwork, then shopping it around? There are a limited number of hours in the day, damn it. Especially when one is destined to spend a number of them curled up in the fetal position, whining, "Owwwww... fucking fried cheesecake!"
6. Haircolor du jour: NaturTint's "Fireland". I was headed to the Whole Foods checkout when I spied its fiery majesty and was forced to toss a box atop my usual comestibles. It looks pretty awesome, but I'm kind of the opposite of the average Whole Foods patron in that I trust "natural" products a lot LESS than lab-formulated, possibly-carcinogenic ones. I'm a little afraid it will fade or bleed or inspire gnats to make sweet, sweet love to my head. Couldn't they have at least tossed a FEW harsh synthetic chemicals in there?
7. Worst music-as-relates-to-life quote ever, from high school friend's summer suitor, re: "Freebird": "I love this song, 'cause it reminds me of me!" (Second worst, 'though fully unintentional, my mother, re: Massive Attack's "Dissolved Girl": "This song reminds me of you." OH LORD, PLEASE LET IT NO LONGER BE THE CASE.)
8. Question for my readers in the child-development sphere: I once read that "speed of language acquisition" is the only developmental area with a direct correlation to later intelligence. True, or utter shit propagated by the makers of educational toys? I ask because J.Q. is not yet two and is speaking in full sentences (while at a friend's house: "Menita! Diaper... poop! Change it!"). If he is going to be a freaky little genius, perhaps I should start funneling my money into an MIT fund rather than wasting it on frivolities such as "rent".
9. Morality Quiz, And Be Honest: do you find that your feelings of guilt primarily stem from fear of being "caught"/exposed or actual remorse? Perhaps I am a monster (but a fetchingly crimson-headed one who produces brilliant offspring!), but I must admit that my guilt is usually of the former variety. I HAVE felt genuine remorse, but very, very infrequently. It takes a truly heinous act for me to feel the urge to atone, rather than shrugging, "Eh, shit happens. I wonder if there's any more goat gouda in the fridge?"
10. Favorite posts from the past seventeen months of angst and amusement? Requests? I'm open to anything but "Freebird".
Labels: The Compleat Thumbscrew
posted by thumbscre.ws at
2/26/2007
8 Comments:
1. Funny you should mention this. Just today a neighbor down the block from me parked his huge-ass vehicle right across the sidewalk; I watched him pull into his driveway, stop halfway across the walk, get out of his car and saunter into his house, with every intention of not getting right back into his behemoth and parking his MONSTERTRUCK at the curb where there was half a block's worth of space. Why?
2. The Wiggles give me the willies.
3. Ah, c'mon, what're you afraid of?
4. I find driving through an automated, self-service carwash the ultimate mood lifter. All those suds and rubber thingamajigs massaging my ride, ahem, and coming out drippy wet and clean at the end...nothing like it. And less fat than cheesecake, though I'm not one to turn that down.
5. What do you feel like doing? Put your energy into what drives you most right now. Maybe while you're taking a break from penning your masterwork, you can clean up a previous work and address some envelopes.
6. Fireland. Sounds hot. Don't wear white shirts for awhile.
7. Your mom listens to Massive Attack?
8. Maximize parenting and writing time; have JQ pen your masterwork.
9. The latter usually. My guilt stems mostly from what I haven't done/should do. It doesn't matter if I get caught in the act of not doing; it's all about my own expectations.
10. I've loved them all. Favorites include "Milk,White,Dark," "Twelve Days of Disappointment," and the creme de la creme, "Assified Eighty." Keep Bloggin', baby!
Sadly, it appears to be too late to do anything about your uncharacteristic deficiency of musical discernment in this instance, but it's not too late to set you straight factually: The Shins aren't Australian, they're American; New Mexican, to be precise, although they are now based in Portland, OR.
I think the Shins are pretentious, boring and annoying poseurs. And I have good taste in music, everyone thinks so (except people with bad taste).
My feelings of guilt do generally stem from fear of being caught, rather than actually doing anything wrong. If I thought I could get away with it, there are lots of bad things I'd do. There are a few lines, but even those are fairly permeable and conditional. I think a lot of people are like this, but few of them will admit it.
Fweeeeeeet, indeed!
Re Worst music-as-relates-to-life quote ever: keep in mind I said that several years ago, when you were not too far removed from your stint in GA. Or do you mean that I shouldn't have said it at all, even if it's true? Tellya what, Jul--to save everyone a lot of time, how about you girls just let me know when I say something right. I'll be waiting.
*sound of tumbleweeds rolling past*
*sound of acorns bouncing off tombstones*
*sound of wolves howling in distance*
If J.Q. is a lil brainiac, finding a social outlet for him is more important than anything else. He will need to have friends who accept him for who he is, 'cause most kids won't. Please don't let him grow up alone (but you already know this).
Re Morality Quiz, I feel I will be caught/exposed because I've actually ruined existence for myself and everyone else on the planet! Watch the newspapers and CNN: they're bound to find out any time now!
Ma
P.S. Got any of that Paxil left?
3. Tease. Go on, you know you want to.
5. Any stripe. Start small and build a portfolio of tear sheets. At least, that's what they would probably tell you if you went to grad school for writing. I don't think it's really possible to dilute your brilliance, anyway.
9. The former, usually. I'm a heartless, amoral bitch for the most part if I'm only accountable to myself (interactions with my children, of course, excepted).
(In no way do these numbers relate to the numbers of the questions/comments you posted)
1. Don't tell everyone on the int'net about your number: you will regret it. Which is why I no longer post while drinking, because I always have to take it down. You need some things that are yours, that only you know. But you can tell me.
2. The Shins suck, plain and simple. The movie Garden State would've been 100x as good if they'd not backed Zach Braff's inherent hilarity up with the fucking Shins. They are the reason Australia was started, for whiny people who are probably hiding some huge criminal secret like them, even if they aren't from Austrlia. I don't care, just make them stop.
3. I am glad I have never heard said Wiggles, although I did see one of their DVDs next to the Fraggle Rock DVD I briefly considered buying in the supermarket today. Something about four grown men doing what they do just screams "PEDOPHILE" or "MENTALLY UNBALANCED!" And I loved Pee-Wee, too.
4. I can't say I've ever felt genuine remorse, except when members of the family have pondered aloud, "Is she scatterbrained... or just evil?" But then that just hurts because it hurts, whether or not it relates to things I've done.
5. The book you said you were writing sounded intriguing, especially with the murder part. Murder is always delicious. Stick with one thing and see it through; it will make you feel better than stopping one thing to start another that you won't finish out of getting distracted by another thing. I promise. You'll hate it when it's done, whatever it is, but it'll be yours and it'll give you that post-coital glow feeling.
6. J.Q. has already proven himself a dastardly young fellow. He will be growing a handlebar moustache within the year, I am sure of it. But don't put all of your eggs in one basket, because he may taper off, and you'll be left with a bright-but-not-genius living in a cardboard box, doing the hula while singing, "Old Grey mare She Ain't What She Used to Be" for money.
7. You are funny.
9. I have lost the ability to count.
I am a huge fan of your writing here--you are fantastic. I don't know jack about normal non-academic publishing (otherwise known as cool publishing) but one thing to think about is how it will affect your writing to be published or rejected. I was just reading about this one British author...so sorry I can't remember her name but she just had a story in the New Yorker...she wrote and wrote and wrote without publishing for years. She didn't publish everything she wrote during that period but she did develop as a writer and is now on her way to writerly stardom. I wonder if this is not a good way to go--it keeps you focussed on your work and the rest of the hassles at bay. Eventually, of course, you gotta step out into the world, though. But for me, writing is much easier when I don't focus on success or failure or how it will be received.
According to other people (I can't tell, actually) my kid is acquiring language rapidly or whatever. I have this moratorium on thinking about whether she is smart or telling her she is smart. It's kind of hard not to do that, of course. (Reluctantly, her father goes along with this now.) Just projecting my own childhood neuroses onto my own kid as all parents should!
MIT seems like kind of a depressing place for undergrads but if your kid gets into grad school there, there's no tuition anyway--so go out and buy yourself something pretty.
I only got as far as FRIED. CARAMEL-FILLED. CHEESECAKE. SITTINGINAPOOLOFCHOCOLATESAUCE, and I blacked out from the mere thought of such an orgasmic-desert.
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