11 Mile & Little Mack

My current favorite playlist - a celebration of those dreary high school years (which, looking back, were pretty horrible, but also pretty good. My friends rocked - in all of their bookish, nerdy, dyed black hair, aerosol-hairspray-using, Honors European History-taking, white socks and Doc Martens-wearing glory).


-Charlotte Sometimes The Cure
-John, I’m Only Dancing David Bowie
-Punk Rock Girl The Dead Milkmen
-Hold Back the Rain Duran Duran
-I Do Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians
-Hey Jealousy The Gin Blossoms
-It’ a Shame About Ray The Lemonheads
-Don’t Dream It’s Over Crowded House
-Down By the Water PJ Harvey
-Roxanne The Police
-Pride (In the Name of Love) U2


These songs remind me of the following: hanging out in the Greenwood Elementary School playground and/or the Jefferson Middle School tennis courts after dark, looking up at the stars; driving around in MK's Blazer, and later in his rehabbed squad car; talking on the phone while sitting on the edge of the bathtub in my grandmother's house, the curly white phone cord smushed in the door frame and pulled to its longest possible length; sitting in the dark on the marching band bus next to CG, listening to the Cure and talking about getting out of there; ratting out JMcD's hair, the ruckus we caused in our high school by merely becoming good friends, and JC and I taking JMcD and SS to the Shelter to dance (oh, that rush of going to "downtown Detroit" and running across the parking lot to get through the door in time to get the lower cover price); sneaking some of the boys in to the drive in by hiding them in the "way back" of JMcK's parents' station wagon, then all of us lined up across the car's massive hood, arms 'round each other so we wouldn't fall off, torn between watching the movie and watching the stars...


My memory of much of high school is hazy, at best. It's a wonder that this iPod thing has the power to take me back.

Brick House

I stopped at the drugstore today on the way home from work, and was shamed by a 5 year old girl in the store. Seriously. She was chatting chatting in a kind of bratty way, walking through the store with her mother (who was ignoring her) and as the girl got closer to me I heard her saying "You have a big belly, don't you? You have a big, big belly, don't you?" And I said, "Well, yes, I do," in a pretty normal voice.

Then she said, "You look really really big. You look big." And I said, "Uh huh, ok," and tried to catch her mother's eye to get this little brat, who was getting louder and louder, under control. Of course, her mom acted like nothing was happening. The girl said "You are super big!" quite loudly, and I said, "Yes, and you are super annoying!" just as loud. Her mother gave me a dirty look, and pulled her in the opposite direction. The clerk standing the next aisle over snorted, but I am not sure at what.

So. I was reduced to a snark-off with a preschooler today. I stood there for a minute after, perfectly still, pretending to continue to look at the lip gloss. What to do? I stood, for a minute, then I walked away and continued shopping, and literally waited til the girl left to go to that part of the store.

In a perfect world, I suppose I would have engaged the girl in fun conversation about how people come in all shapes and sizes. Or, maybe in a perfect world the girl's freaking mother would have stepped in and done that for me. I just can't stop thinking about it, though - the girl was 5 goddamned years old. I am fairly certain I'm not the first fat woman she's ever seen. Why is it ok for her to call out my size without her mom intervening? And why does it bother me so?

Thanks to the seemingly freaky and highly talented "toastycakes" for posting this public photo on flickr. Thanks for sharing.

Barking At The Moon

Ok, not really. But this little dog is barking at the cold, that's for certain. It's ass scratching cold here in Seattle; we're all bundled up and trying to stay warm. Hot chocolate for everyone!

Kids Today

Jesus H. mother of Christ, I feel old. Recently given an IPOD from my better half, I find myself feeling a bit like, say, my grandmother trying to utilize email (which, by the way, she doesn't. She doesn't even have an answering machine). Perhaps my family carries the "perpetually behind the times"gene? Who knows; suffice it to say that I had to actually go out and buy a "how to use your IPOD" book, containing screen shots, just so I could figure out how to work the damn thing. I was, I admit, relieved to find (when I freaking had to look online when I couldn't figure it out) that there is not--indeed there is not--an "on/off" button for the bastard.

The bastard thing is dangerous, too. Having signed up with the iTunes Store, it's too freaking simple to buy music. With a "click," I suddenly own music from Panic! At The Disco, Cyndi Lauper, Betty, and the Hooters. Yes, OK, I admit it, the Hooters. Blame it on my days as a Durannie and a band geek; I was vulnerable back then, and recently I had a hankerin' for their version of "Time After Time," which of course was easily available via iTunes. This bastard iPod has thrown me into nostalgia land, a bit. Something--a commercial, a bit of overheard conversation, having a dear friend from high school visit--will remind me of a band or of a song that I haven't heard in years and yes, you know what happens...it's JP to the Internet scouring for downloadable memories.

So I've managed to import some CDs, download a few albums (I get a strange pleasure from the fact that it's apparently OK again to call them "albums"), and create a playlist. I'm going to have to find some agreeable 14 year old, though, to help me with any more sophisticated maneuvers.

That reminds me! Orchestral Manoeuvers in the Dark! I wonder if "If You Leave" is available on iTunes??