xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Yeah. Good Times.: July 2010

Saturday, July 31, 2010

WTF, Supercuts?

We took the boys to get haircuts this afternoon, to Supercuts, and I swear to god, they are both now sporting the worst fucking haircuts I've ever seen. It looks like their heads were attacked by a coked out squirrel wielding a hedge trimmer. Maybe I shouldn't judge, because it's not like I could do any better, but DAMN, Supercuts! Why must you suck so much? It's a good thing they're both so stunningly beautiful because they can actually pull it off.

What. The fuck. Is that?

Literal videos rule

Seriously, though, I can't wait to see this (these) movie(s)

Useless superpowers

Sorry it's a little hard to see (click for embiggening). I think my favorite is desaturation.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Listen up, potential clients

Alright, potential clients, let's get this clear, shall we? First of all, I am THRILLED that you "found my website online" because it means that my feeble attempts at marketing myself is producing something or other, but after I've interrupted my workout to spend 10 fucking minutes giving you free advice on how to calculate your sales tax if you sell online and then ship to L.A., I would appreciate it if you would end the call with "Great! So, when can we start giving you money?" as opposed to "okay, maybe I'll call you next week," because you're NOT going to fucking call me next week, and now my heart has gone back to its resting rate and I'm all pissed off about it.

Yes, I KNOW the preceding was one big run-on sentence, but I'm a bookkeeper and not a goddamn English professor, so if it bothers you, just take STFU, multiply it by 9.75%, put that on your form to the Board of Equalization and then shove it up your ass.



Thursday, July 29, 2010

Song of the day: You may be right

This song has been running through my head all day, for some reason. This is a DAMN good song, and this album was life changing for me. I was 9 when it came out and I remember hearing It's Still Rock 'n Roll to Me on the radio and it was the first time I'd ever had an emotional reaction to a piece of music. I think I probably still have the original vinyl record that I bought shortly afterward.

You may be right
Billy Joel

Friday night I crashed your party
Saturday I said I'm sorry
Sunday came and trashed it out again
I was only having fun
Wasn't hurting anyone
And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change

I've been stranded in the combat zone
I walked through Bedford Stuy alone
Even rode my motorcycle in the rain
And you told me not to drive
But I made it home alive
So you said that only proves that I'm insane

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just might be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right

Remember how I found you there
Alone in your electric chair
I told you dirty jokes until you smiled
You were lonely for a man
I said take me as I am
'Cause you might enjoy some madness for a while

Now think of all the years you tried to
Find someone to satisfy you
I might be as crazy as you say
If I'm crazy then it's true
That it's all because of you
And you wouldn't want me any other way

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
It's too late to fight
It's too late to change me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
You may be right
You may be wrong but you may be right

I just realized something...

I have now blogged about where I'm going on Friday night and where I'm going on Sunday afternoon. If I had a stalker, I'm making their job much easier.

No need to thank me, current and future stalkers. I am nothing if not helpful.

Cats for gold!

Oh, how I wish there was a reversal of this system.... I could probably stop working

Jerry Garcia tribute night

I'm not really a baseball fan, but this is going to be so cool!!!! Hey, it's for the kids, right?

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Song of the day: Alcohol

I love these guys. This is a particularly good version of this song, but they were always so good live, anyway.

Did you know that camisoles and tank tops are two different things? True story. I just learned that tonight.

Barenaked Ladies

Alcohol, my permanent accessory
Alcohol, a party-time necessity
Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself
O Alcohol, I still drink to your health

I love you more than I did the week before
I discovered alcohol

Forget the cafe latte, screw the raspberry iced tea
A Malibu and Coke for you, a G&T for me
Alcohol, Your songs resolve like
my life never will
When someone else is picking up the bill

I love you more than I did the week before
I discovered alcohol
O Alcohol, would you please forgive me?
For while I cannot love myself
I'll use something else

I thought that Alcohol was just for those with
nothing else to do
I thought that drinking just to get drunk
was a waste of precious booze
But now I know that there's a time
and there's a place where I can choose
To walk the fine line between
self-control and self-abuse

I love you more than I did the week before
I discovered alcohol
Would you please ignore that you
found me on the floor
Trying on your camisole?
O Alcohol, would you please forgive me?
For while I cannot love myself
I'll use something else.

Jerry Day is Sunday August 1st

Do you live in the Bay Area? Do you need something to do this Sunday? Are you AWESOME?

Jerry Day is this Sunday, August 1st.

The event is free but they need donations to make it happen, so if you're interested, go to their website or their Facebook page and help them out!! And go to the Jerry Garcia Amphitheater this Sunday, because ... JERRY RULES!!

We're going karaoke-ing again!

So, how about some requests? Put them here and maybe I'll show you some video!

Ha ha, no, there's no way in hell you're getting any video. But seriously, what should I sing?

Can somebody please explain this to me?

Full arm tattoos: I don't understand them.

The arm of a douchebag

Seriously, guys, I don't get it. What is the point of covering your entire arm with permanent ink? I do understand how tattoos can be addictive, though. I have 2 and I'm already thinking about the 3rd.

Simultaneously cool and painful!

 But your entire arm? I don't get it! Why? Is there some religious symbolism? Some hipster symbolism? Some douchebag symbolism? Can somebody please shed some light? Thank you very much.

Quote of the day

I love him so

The now-ubiquitous cupcake isn’t explicitly sexual, I realize, but our culture does encourage people—women in particular—to sublimate their erotic desires by stuffing their faces with food. And most of those squat, round, and pink-frosted things look, to my jaded eyes, like so many squat little cocks, DEB, so many growers-not-showers with pink sprinkles, and most of those cupcocks are inhaled by women.

- Dan Savage

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Now that's the kind of stim I can get used to!

Child 1 keeps making me sing My Favorite Things from the Sound of Music. Happy to help, my boy!

I've spent WAY too much time at this computer today. This is the result of the combination of having low maintenance, self-entertaining kids and no work to do. I fear for the rest of my week.... somebody help me!

More clients. MORE!!

I'm starting to like this weird "money" thing that happens as a result of this weird "working" thing I've been doing lately. Unfortunately, every client that offers me 20 hours/week always turns into just 5 hours/month because apparently I'm quick and efficient. I've been lectured by close friends and family that I need to be slower so that I can bill more hours, but I just can't figure out how to do that. So, I want more clients, and therefore more money. MORE CLIENTS! MOOOORRREEE!! Does anybody need a Bookkeeper? I'm quick and efficient!

I'm pretty sure I lost a potential client last month because of an accidental pun, which just confirms for me my previous suspicions that puns are evil and should be permanently abolished from the world. We ended a nice phone conversation with me saying something about how they should check my references and "vet me." Guess what they do? Yeah. They're veterinarians. But it was AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR! I would NEVER knowingly use a pun against another human being and as soon as I said it I was like "OOPS! That was an accident!." The dude laughed, but I didn't get the job. Coincidence? No. I don't think so.....

I heart the Bay Area

Go Oakland, Go!!!

Oakland Authorizes Large-Scale Pot Farms, First Major City To Do So

OAKLAND, Calif. — The City Council gave final approval Tuesday to a plan that makes Oakland the first city in the country to authorize large-scale industrial pot cultivation.

The city intends to license four production plants where marijuana would be grown, packaged and processed for medical use.

Under the plan, which would take effect in January, license recipients would be heavily taxed and regulated. They would have to pay the city $211,000 in annual permit fees, carry $2 million in liability insurance and be prepared to devote up to 8 percent of gross sales to taxes.

The measure also would require bidders to meet certain labor, environmental and product safety standards.

However, there would be no size restrictions on the facilities.

Two of the eight City Council members abstained from the vote.

Supporters of the measure say it will create jobs and bring in much-needed revenue to Oakland. They also say it will give the city an advantage if California voters approve the legalization of recreational marijuana in November.

Opponents argue the urban pot farms would put small medical marijuana growers out of business.

Permits would not be limited to Oakland-based businesses. Councilwoman Desley Brooks said she hoped local business owners and minorities would be encouraged to apply.

Song of the day: Timebomb

Look, no banjo!

Old 97's

I got a timebomb, in my mind Mom.
I hear it ticking but I don't know why.
I call the police, but they don't like me.
I hear 'em whispering when I walk by.

I got a landmine in my bloodline.
I'm not immune to getting blown apart.
She's like a claymore, that's what she's there for.
She's waiting 'round here to get blown apart.

Having her on my brain's like getting hit by a train,
She's gonna kill me. Oh Celeste, oh Celeste.

I got a timebomb, in my mind Mom,
It's gonna go off, but I don't know when.
I need a doctor to extract her.
I got a feeling she'd get right back in again

I got a timebomb, in my mind Mom,
I got it badly for a stick-legged girl
She's gonna kill me, and I don't mean softly.
I got it badly for a stick-legged girl

Having her on my brain's like getting hit by a train,
She's gonna kill me. Oh Celeste, oh Celeste, oh Celeste.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Fuck Autism

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it.

I don't feel like explaining myself so you're just going to have to trust me on this one.

Autistic Girl Expresses Profound Intelligence

This is absolutely incredible. I don't even know what to say. Just watch.

Carly's blog is here, "changing the world of autism." Follow her on Twitter @CarlysVoice

An open letter to spammers

Dear spammers:

Yes. Sometimes I DO wish I had a thicker, longer Pen1s, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate you sending me information on how to make that happen. Sadly, however, all of the pills in world will not help me with this problem and I think I must accept the fact that I will spend my remaining days wanting a thicker, longer Pen1s but simply lacking the proper equipment. Please continue, however, to keep me informed on the advancing medicine that helps to make Pen1ses thicker and longer and I will look forward to your daily updates, as always.

Very truly yours,

Sunday, July 25, 2010

An update on my iPod

I still haven't found it.

Richard Harris rules

The kids have been on this weird Harry Potter craze lately, we have all of them (so far) on DVD and have been watching them constantly. This is the kind of movie overload trend I can get into, because I love Harry Potter. (We don't need to have a debate about the books vs. the movies, I think that's rather obvious). But we've been watching them all again and again (except we can't find Order of the Phoenix, which is a bummer, because that's my favorite) so I've had AMPLE opportunity to compare Richard Harris' Dumbledore to Michael Gambon's Dumbledore and GODDAMMIT he was SO FUCKING GOOD. Gambon is a caricature in comparison to Harris' awesomeness. What a loss.

I heart the colorblind

Song of the day: The Cave

I love these guys, banjo notwithstanding. Plus this video has some bonus Craig Ferguson funny!

The Cave
Mumford & Sons

It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Come on, guys, are you going to let bacon win?

Huh? WTF am I talking about, Willis?

Another science fail

Popular Autism Diet Does Not Demonstrate Behavioral Improvement

A popular belief that specific dietary changes can improve the symptoms of children with autism was not supported by a tightly controlled University of Rochester study, which found that eliminating gluten and casein from the diets of children with autism had no impact on their behavior, sleep or bowel pattern.

Just a snippet, more at the link.

HOW many times do I need to tell you, Science, that YOU SUCK. First of all, if you click on the link to the study (I didn't, but I have smart friends who did! :) ) you'll learn that there were 14 kids in this tightly controlled study. (Hey, I'm just wondering, how many kids were in Wakefield's original study? 12? Isn't that one of the things people use when they list the reasons he should be discredited? I'm just curious).

I could go on another rant about this, but I've decided just to quote my incredibly good friend who responded to this article with the following: "Well, those researchers can kiss my lily white ass be/c (my kid) is allergic to dairy (and this has been replicated every time he's had an allergy test), so removal of casein has helped him."

Exactly. And I, for one, would like to see those researchers kiss her lily white ass. Okay, maybe that's a personal thing I shouldn't share.... 

Edit: I forgot about this astute observation. Just pisses me off more, actually.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Song of the day: Walk Away

Dude. This is a DAMN good song. Joe Walsh, pre-Eagles. This video was made the year I was born. SOOO good!!!

Walk Away
James Gang

Taking my time,
choosin my line,
tryin to decide what to do.
Looks like my stop,
dont want to get off.
Got myself hung up on you.
Seems to me,
you dont want to talk about it.
Seems to me,
you just turn your pretty head and walk away.
Places Ive known,
things that I'm growin'
don't taste the same without you.
I got myself in
the worst mess I've been
And I find myself starving without you
Seems to me talk all night here comes the morning
Seems to me you just forget what we said
And greet the day
Seems to me,
you dont want to talk about it.
Seems to me,
you just turn your pretty head and walk away.
I got to cool myself down,
stompin around,
thinkin' some words I can't name ya.
I'll meet you half way,
I got nothin' to say,
Still I don't s'pose I can blame ya.
Seems to me,
you dont want to talk about it.
Seems to me,
you just turn your pretty head and walk away.
Walk Away

I hate cats.

This picture fills me with a hatred stronger than the white hot heat of a thousand suns.

Okay, first things first; let's get the obvious out of the way. In the immortal and hilarious words of my good friend the Right Wing Bastard, "bitching about cats is like bitching about the cactus you keep in your pants." You can probably get the gist of his meaning pretty easily, and it's a question I get asked OFTEN when I'm bitching about how much I fucking hate cats: Why not just get rid of them, then? Yeah, I'll get to that later.

I keep this in my pants and OH MY GOD IT'S SO PAINFUL. WHY? WHY??????

So, here's how the story goes. First, we had one cat. His name is Mr. Charlie (because he told me so). He is enormous and orange and loud and obnoxious and we've had him ever since he was a baby and standing in his food bowl at the pound in Santa Barbara trying to get our attention so we would get him the hell out of there. He's 14 now? I think? Hubs? 14?

He's a surly old man now. Sometimes we say "Oh my god, look how surly that cat is!"

And then, a friend stayed with us for a while, and she brought her own cat, who happened to be unspayed, and then we had 2 cats. Shortly afterward, however, we had 6.

6 cats. Yeah. Good times.

And THEN, through a horrible series of mishaps, fantastic escape scenes, missed doctors appointments and feline incest.... we had 12. I'm not kidding. 12.

This is not as cute as you think it is. In fact, it's not even cute at ALL.

It became comical. Or, it would have been comical if we weren't actually living with 12 cats. My friend, who brought the unspayed cat in the first place, had moved back to LA, leaving behind this enormous breed of fuzzy, squeeky, NOT cute little creatures who became more and more annoying by the day. But we had to hold onto them for when my friend came back to pick them up. In the meantime, though, 2 of the little babies died, and then we gave away 2 (actually we gave away three but one of them was returned to us. I won't say by whom.... I don't want to embarrass anybody.....) and so we ended up with 8. And we waited for my friend to return. And we waited. And waited some more. Finally I just couldn't take it anymore and I put 4 of them in a box and brought them to the pound. The City pound, where they don't ask any questions. It's not a no-kill place, though, and I have no idea what happened to them. 2 of them were still tiny babies, though, so I'm sure they found homes for them. Right? RIGHT??

And then there were 4. That's not a whole huge amount, I mean, at least compared to 12. We still have Charlie, and one of the other ones is pretty much feral and never even comes in the house, so he doesn't really count. And then we have the original, now spayed once unspayed female who caused all of these problems in the first place, but we can't get rid of her because she's still my friend's cat, even though my friend has apparently disappeared into the ether never to be seen or heard from again. And the other one has adopted hubs, and he has adopted her, and they are wonderful friends who love each other. And THEN there's the whole "kid loves cats" factor; Child 2 doesn't call them by their names, he calls them "My friend cat Spike," or "My friend cat Charlie" and he pets them and says "ooooooooooh, you're so cute! I love you!" So how would I explain that one to him? "Sorry, honey, Mommy killed your friend cat because she was annoying me. And let that be a lesson to you and your brother never to annoy Mommy." So now do you see why I'm stuck with all four of them? I can't get rid of any of them, I'm just sitting here waiting for them all to die and thus relieve me of my burden of having to feed them and keep them alive on top of everything else I have to do. And OH MY GOD I HATE THEM ALL.

It's so weird, because I used to LOVE cats. We've had a bunch over the years and I loved petting them and taking care of them and snuggling with them, but there was something about 12 cat overload that took away all of my love of cats and replaced it with nothing but annoyance and derision. And now that they're all grown up they're enormous and they're EVERYWHERE. I swear, there is no surface in my house that doesn't have a cat on it. No sweater that isn't furry, no drawer or chair that isn't being slept in or on, we wake up in the middle of the night EVERY NIGHT to find our legs pinned under the weight of one or another of them. I can't stand it!

And so, my friend the bastard, I will complain about my cats until the day either they die or they kill me and eat my carcass, and you will listen and make fun of me, and that's okay.

This just in:

I would say that I look just like this except this woman only has 2 cats while I have 4.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Artichoke: You're trying too hard

The artichoke, from the Eager Plant genus, that grows at my child's school

I've been watching this artichoke grow at Child 2's school since early spring. It started small enough, but then it grew into this enormous, multi-faceted, elaborately complicated thing with giant, stretching branches and huge leaves... all for just one little artichoke! All of that greenery and effort for just one tiny little artichoke that hangs out at the top. You can't really see its endeavor that well in this picture because it's starting to die, but when it was in full force, that sure was a sight to see. You can kind of see it in this picture, although this isn't the one I've been watching for months:

And then, somebody is going to buy the thing for maybe a dollar, and then there's all that work that goes into eating one of these things; pulling off the leaf-thingies and scraping your teeth along it to get a tiny little piece of something or other (with all of the flavor coming from whatever concoction you're dipping it in), and some substance in the middle that's hiding behind all that weird furry stuff that you have to scrape off and tastes horrible if you accidentally eat some. How much actual food do you get out of one of these things? Maybe an ounce if you're lucky?

I'm going to start boycotting artichokes, just on principle. That much effort for so little reward, and on so many levels, it just doesn't seem worth it.

Song of the day: New Speedway Boogie

A friend sent me this last night, this is the Yonder Mountain String Band (with Bill Kreutzmann & Mickey Hart!!!!) playing in Oregon over the weekend. This song might make it into my top 10 (let's start counting how many times I say that a song would be in my top 10 and then when I get to 50 somebody let me know)

Wednesday, July 21, 2010


My baby is five today. Sob. I would post a picture for you all to enjoy his beautiful-ness but I don't want pictures of my kids out there for any pedophile or priest to look at, so you're just going to have to hope that you're my Facebook friend, and if you're reading this, you're my Facebook friend! Check back over there later for pics.

So, last night I'm quizzing the boy, even though he doesn't have autism and doesn't need any quizzing, I still do it out of habit. It can't hurt him, right?

Me: And HOW old are you going to be tomorrow?

Child 2: FIVE! And, Mama, do you know what 5 plus 5 is?

Me: What?

Child 2: It's TEN! And do you know what 10 plus 5 is?

Me now feeling like an idiot for having quizzed him on his age: What?

Child 2: 15

Okay, I guess he's ready for Kindergarten (which starts in 41 days, by the way. We counted)


Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Song of the day: Sweet Pain

Am I the only one who really, really misses Bobby Sheehan? (or even knows who he is?) I wanted to find a video of this song with him in it; I think this one is actually better because it gets you all weepy 'n shit (if you knew who he was and was upset when he died). Plus, John is still fat here so he still has soul.

Sweet Pain
Blues Traveler

If Cyrano De Bergerac
Fell prey to the blades of fifty men
With a heart and a sword he'd drive them back
Perchance to see Roxanne's eyes light up the sky again
And when beauty kind and full of grace
Again denied the beast her hand
The beast he turned and hid his face
And tried with all his might and magic to understand

And once upon a time
You know I used to wondery why
You know no one should need to cry
In pain of a heart forbade to fly
But you learn to say goodbye
As you whisper beneath a sigh

Sweet pain
Can't you plainly see?
Sweet pain
You know it matters to me
Sweet pain
Won't you make me feel at home?
Sweet pain
Don't you dare leave me alone

Sometimes a life that seems hard to take
Is soothed for a while by an old friend
Leaving a bad need in its wake
Sad how, some friendships never ever seem to end
Well all of my heroes up and died
Songs and a dream are left for me
What did them in, not suicide
Just a lengthy friendship and a dream of (how) it could be

And isn't it a crime?
Was it more than they could bear?
You know they did not even care
At all and they might have something there
But I'm here and I don't see where
All I hear is their silent prayer

Sweet pain
Is it so terribly wrong?
Sweet pain
To want to come along
Sweet pain
Won't you make me smile?
Sweet pain
If only for a while

Can you feel what I feel?
So we can establish that the pain is real
Don't be afraid and I'll do the same for you
And we'll just hang on and we'll make it, make it through
There's got to be a reason it works out this way
And there's something deep inside me
That makes me have to play
For you
For you

In no position to give advice
My heart it spoke and I wrote it down
And you know every wisdom has its price
My head up in the stars
And my feet planted firmly on the ground
When will I embrace this life I see?
I've been wondering for so long
Thinking back, the truth may be
I've been unaware but I've been living it all along

And it didn't cost a dime
And it did not come for free
It just would not let me be
But it never conquered me
Just a doorway and a key
And I think that we both agree

Sweet pain
Is sometimes what you need
Sweet pain
It allows the blood to bleed
Sweet pain
From the moment of your birth
Sweet pain
You know it keeps you here on Earth

Things (about autism) that make you go hmmmmmm

There are a lot of things you can imagine about what it's like to have a kid with autism; how hard it is, for one. The worry, the heartbreak, all that goddamn work you have to do; but what's always been interesting to me are the things that you just wouldn't expect, or you wouldn't have guessed, unless you had me (or one of my sistahs) to explain it to you. Here are some things I've been pondering lately.

The first and most notable thing about it is that autism forces you not only to change your expectations about what you thought parenting was, but also that sometimes you just have to go against what your instincts tell you. At least at first, while you're learning, but I'll get to the rest of my point later. My instinct as a parent is to let my children be whomever they are and not try to force them into something that I would prefer they be. Unfortunately, the whole theory around "treating" autism (at least the one we've chosen and have seen success with) is that you MUST force them to do things they don't want to do. Make them look at you; make them talk to you; make them talk to other people, etc. I've always really struggled with this because it's just so the opposite of what I think I should be doing. Not only that, but at every step along the way I've questioned myself. "Is this right? Should I be doing this? Should I be making him do this? It feels wrong, are you sure this is right?" and, as I've said before, since science has failed us, the autie parents, we just have to go along with whatever it is we're doing and just hope for the best. Shut up and keep swimming, as a very wise friend once said.

But eventually you learn that autism is in charge and you are not, and you learn that the choices you might make, which you think are best, may be what you would prefer but are not always what is best for HIM. I've learned this the hard way a number of times, and it's only by really studying him and his needs that I've been able to figure out what to do in each particular case; I have to remind myself that what I want and what's best for him aren't necessarily the same thing, and since I'm not in charge, autism is, it's almost like a risk/benefit analysis. If I make this choice that might benefit me, will the fallout be worse than the reward?

Another thing that I find interesting is that since Child 1 was, as his name suggests, my first child, I learned how to parent by parenting an autistic child, so by the time Child 2 came around, all I knew was how to parent an autistic child and typical children were totally foreign to me. They do all these strange things like talk to other people and have friends and when they cry they can tell you why. How weird is that?! With the second one I'm actually able to trust the instincts that tell me he should be free to be who he is, but I've now conditioned myself (with trials. HA HA! a little ABA humor) to believe that that's not the way to do it, so now I don't know WHAT the fuck to do. I'm constantly flying by the seat of my pants (what a great expression; I don't even really know what it means but I love it) and I think I might be doing it all wrong half the time, but as long as they don't cry, I consider myself a success. Or, wait, is that how it works? Or is it that it's ONLY if they cry you're doing it right. I have no fucking idea. Do you?

The last thing, and the one that I've always found most ironic, is that my child with autism has always been so much easier to parent than my NT child. The autistic one is quiet and withdraws and shuts down when he's stressed (for the most part) and the other one gets all loud and shout-y. Of course, that's a symptom of his disability, but how funny is that? Plus, he's also the sweetest, kindest person in the world, so that helps. Not that the other one isn't sweet and kind, he's just, um... more like me, i.e. louder about it.

So, bottom line, I have no idea what I'm talking about and have been typing this for about 45 minutes now and I don't even remember what my point was in the first place.

Hey, look! A bear!

Monday, July 19, 2010

Dear Lindsay Lohan

Poor you, having to take some responsibility for yourself. I can't imagine the horror of having to face up to what you've done. We're all crying for you over here, you poor, poor thing.



P.S. I hope you rot in jail for what you did to my friend and her sweet child. ROT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Song of the day: The High Road

I hope you guys appreciate me introducing you to all this new music that you've probably heard before.....

The High Road
Broken Bells

We're bound to wait all night
She's bound to run amok
Invested enough in it anyhow
To each his own
The garden needs sorting out
She curls her lips on the bow
And I don't know if i'm dead or not
To anyone

Come on and get the minimum
Before you open up your eyes
This army has so many heads
to analyze
Come on and get your overdose
Collect it at the borderline
And they want to get up in your head

Cause they know, and so do I
The high road is hard to find
A detour to your new life
Tell all of your friends goodbye

The dawn to end all nights
That's all we hoped it was
A break form the warfare in your house
To each his own
The soldier is bailing out
He curled his lips on a barrel
And I don't know if the dead can talk
To anyone

Come on and get the minimum
Before you open up your eyes
This army has so many hands
are you one of us?
Come on and get your overdose
Collect it at the borderline
And they want to get up in your head

Cause they know, and so do I
The high road is hard to find
A detour to your new life
Tell all of your friends goodbye

It's too late to change your mind
You let loss be your guide

I like getting paid

Doing freelance work has its plusses and minuses, as you can imagine. One the one hand, I set my own schedule, I set my own rate and I supervise myself. I like what I do, I have cool clients, so I enjoy my work and all these benefits. On the other hand, I get paid very sporadically. I have about 7 clients right now but they're really only a couple of hours a month each, so I still don't make very much money. I'm usually only with them for an hour or so each time I'm there and I like to bill them once a month so that when they do pay me it's something relatively sizable, but, like I said, it means that I don't actually get paid very often.

When I DO get paid, though, like today.... WOOO HOOOOO!!!!! YAY MONEY!!!!

It don't worry 'bout where it's going

Have you ever tried to make a list of your top 10 favorite songs? And limit it to just 10? I tried once and it's comically impossible, but if you put a gun to my head and forced me, this one would be in the top 5.  (Sorry for more hippie music, RWB. No I'm not). When I was in college I would occasionally sing with a band and this was one of the songs we would do.

This was another one:

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Song of the day: Either Way

It is (un)surprisingly difficult to find a good YouTube video of bands doing their songs live. Unless it's something that the band has actually made, it's always just some dude in the crowd holding up his cell phone and the quality is always horrible. So, here's another studio version.

Either Way

Maybe the sun will shine today
The clouds will blow away
Maybe I won’t feel so afraid
I will try to understand
Either way

Maybe you still love me
Maybe you don’t
Either you will or you won’t
Maybe you just need some time alone
I will try to understand
Everything has its plan
Either way
I’m gonna stay
Right for you

Maybe the sun will shine today
The clouds will roll away
Maybe I won’t be so afraid
I will understand everything has its plan
Either way

Saturday, July 17, 2010

This is absolutely hilarious

I'm a boy robot!


Hubs and I went out a-singin' last night, or at least I did the singing, he would never be caught dead with a microphone in his hand unless it was to play a prank on one of our kids or something. We went to the Mel-O-Dee lounge which, interestingly, was not named such because it's a karaoke bar, but was named after a person named Melodee. I think. (Hubs come and correct me on that one). Either way, they have red velvet wallpaper and it's awesome.

So, there are 2 types of people who do Karaoke, and 2 corresponding types of karaoke bars that cater to their clientele: Type 1, people who can sing and are just looking for a place to do it that isn't their car or their shower and Type 2, people who seriously CANNOT sing but who get enough alcohol in them and think it's hilarious to go up there and make a fool out of themselves while all their friends cheer them on. You don't often get a lot of crossover between the two types of people and bars, so if you're in a Type 1 bar there will not be a lot of Type 2 people. Mel-O-Dee is a Type 1 bar and on a typical Friday night it is JAM PACKED with regulars. Did you know that people will actually bring their own CDs with them? I just learned this last night. As the dude sitting next to us explained, the standard songs that the VJ plays can have unpredictable arrangements so the only way to know exactly what you'll be singing is to make your own and bring them. (And then he went on to give us actual directions to the place in Pinole that we should go to if we're ever interested in doing this. Thanks random singing dude!)

They key, for me, to a successful karaoke experience is getting just the right amount of alcohol in me. Too little and I'm all nervous and awkward, too much and I just SUCK. But with the proper amount, I am channeling the spirit of Bacchus, as hubs would say. This particular trip was inspired by my viewing of That Jewel Video, which reminded me that the first time we went there ... well, let's just say I did not have the proper amount of alcohol in me, and I completely butchered Who Will Save Your Soul (anybody who was a witness to that does NOT need to back me up on that one. Seriously). So, I was determined to go back and redeem myself. Unfortunately the disk with that song was cracked, so I guess we're headed back there next weekend!

The thing about karaoke, though, is that so much of your time is spent sitting and waiting for it to be your turn. We were there for 2 hours and I did 2 songs, and the VJ is fair, it's all first come first served, he doesn't give preference to the regulars, despite the fact that the place is ALL regulars. So, there's nothing to do while you wait except drink and listen to other people sing. And this place is CRAZY with the strong drinks. They're SERIOUSLY STRONG, and very cheap, and you've got nothing else to do but sit there and drink them, so you have to be very careful. Last night I was careful. (Not like those other nights!)

Song #1, which was supposed to be Jewel, was instead Amy Winehouse. I did NOT have the proper amount of alcohol in me and I was nervous and awkward. Hubs said it sounded good, but I can't hear myself when I'm up there so I just go by how it feels, and it didn't feel that great. Probably because I was nervous and awkward. He promises me that he wasn't just being nice and saying that and I kind of believe him. It's a good song, though, and fun to sing....

Song #2 was my karaoke standard, White Rabbit. Until we started going to the Mel-o-dee I would do this song every time I ever did karaoke. I definitely had the spirit of Bacchus going for this one. I still couldn't hear myself but it felt good. Feed your head! I'm just bummed they didn't use the smoke machine, that would have been awesome.

So, there you have it, my karaoke experience. We got pictures, but upon closer inspection I decided they're too horrible to share. I seem to be having some kind of romantic relationship with that microphone and it's not fit for public consumption. Maybe next time!

Friday, July 16, 2010

I see THREE potential new clients....

Oakland bookkeeper indicted on embezzlement charges

OAKLAND — An Oakland bookkeeper has been indicted by a federal grand jury on charges of embezzling $240,000 from three small-business clients in Oakland and Berkeley.

Catherine Bullard, 37, of Oakland, was indicted by a grand jury in Oakland on Thursday on four counts of wire fraud and five counts of bank fraud. She is due to have an initial appearance before U.S. Magistrate Laurel Beeler on July 23.

The indictment alleges that Bullard embezzled $240,000 from three businesses between 2005 and early this year by depositing checks intended for third-party vendors into her own bank account.

The three businesses are A Step Forward, a shoe and accessories store on Piedmont Avenue in Oakland; Molly B, a clothing store with two locations in Berkeley; and Monsoon Corp., an Oakland jewelry store. The indictment says the establishments entrusted Bullard with their checkbooks so that she could pay the third-party vendors that supplied the businesses with products.

Instead of sending certain checks to vendors, Bullard is accused of writing her own bank account number on the back of checks intended for vendors and using ATMs to deposit the checks to her own account.

The nine counts each carry a theoretical maximum sentence of 30 years in prison. If Bullard is convicted, the actual penalty would be determined by a judge after consideration of federal sentencing guidelines. The case has been assigned to U.S. District Judge Saundra Armstrong for a not-yet-scheduled trial.

Sometimes I just wish I had the guts.....


This drawing, by my blog idol Allie Brosh, has absolutely nothing to do with what I'm about to post about. I just think it's funny. :)

I have often said that I'm not cut out for this parenting thing. I'm way too neurotic and I worry too fucking much; and about things I have absolutely no control over. In particular, I worry about their mental well being. If they're not both 100% happy at all times, I feel a little sick to my stomach (unless I'm the one making them unappy, in which case I'm oddly okay with that). This is really stupid, when you think about it, because NOBODY is 100% happy all the time, and expecting that either of my children would be is completely unrealistic and unproductive. As you can imagine, I feel slightly sick to my stomach quite often.

I've talked before about how 3rd grade freaks me out, so there's nothing new to report about that, except now I'm starting to have dreams about it. The other night I dreamt that I went to the house of the teacher who we'll have for 3rd grade and I was asking her questions about our IEP, how she would plan to implement it and gave some suggestions that I thought might be helpful to her. In the summertime. At her house. I'm sure I was very helpful to Dream Teacher. In reality I would probably know better than to actually go to her house, but that might not stop me from sending an email or 12. I'll try not to actually do it over the summer, though. Maybe I'll wait until the middle of August.

Child 2 will be 5 on Wednesday. He starts Kindergarten in the fall. We've been talking about it all summer and up until today he's seemed rather unfazed by the whole thing. I thought maybe he just didn't understand, so last week I asked him if he knew what Kindergarten was. He said it was when you went to a new school with a new teacher and new friends. Yep, that's about right. He still didn't seem very impressed by it so I figured maybe he was just INCREDIBLY well adjusted. But today, totally out of nowhere, we're walking to get Child 1 from camp and he just stops walking and starts crying. "I'm scared of Kindergarten," he says. "Why?" I ask. "Because there won't be anybody I know and none of my friends will be there and I'll be all alone." I asked him if he remembered when he started at the school he goes to now, how he didn't know anybody, and then he met H and Z and C and now he has lots of friends? He said he remembered and that made him feel better. It didn't make me feel better, though.

Ouch. Heart hurts. :(

Things that suck: Heel spurs, the finale

So, went to the foot doc today. It reminded me a lot of this:

"No, you just do that now. That's just a new thing you do, until you and your shitty ankle both die."

As expected, my internet research proved correct: ice, advil, stretching, shoe inserts. I can no longer wear my birkenstocks because they're too flat. sob. AND he told me to get expensive running shoes instead of my current expensive walking shoes. So, I head on over to Sports Authority and I try them all on, and I spend about 10 minutes talking with the cool dude who was helping me about the purpose of my purchase: it doesn't matter what they look like, it's the comfort and support that's important. Because LOOK what I ended up with.


I could have spent $25 more on the pair that weren't as supportive or flexible, because they weren't as hideously ugly, but that's totally unnecessary. It's not about what they look like, right? RIGHT?

WHY DO WOMEN'S SHOES HAVE TO BE PINK??? Are men's shoes baby blue? Seriously, that's just WRONG.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

That is some very impressive spam!

Check out this spam I just got; click on it to make it bigger:

I know I didn't order anything so I looked at the source of where the click would take me if I tried to find out what it was. It's something that ends in .ru which is never good. Very impressive, though, but if you get an Amazon.com confirmation and you're not sure it's real... it's probably not!

The things you miss if you only read the feed

What? What did I miss? Is it a poll? A picture? A link? WHAT???

In another time's forgotten space

Look, it's the Allman Brothers doing Franklin's Tower! So pretty. :)

Ten Things Every Child with Autism Wishes You Knew

From a book by Ellen Notbohm

Ten Things Every Child with Autism Wishes You Knew 

I am a child first
My autism is one aspect of my total character. I am a person with thoughts, feelings, and many talents - like you. Don't allow stereotypical thinking to limit your expectations of what I may be capable of.

My sensory perceptions are disordered
The ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches of everyday life that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me. I am not withdrawn or belligerent; I am just trying to defend myself.

Distinguish between won't and can't
It isn't that I don't listen, it's that I can't understand you. When you call to me from across the room, I hear: "*&^#@, Billy. #$%$&*" Come speak directly to me in plain words: "Please put your book in your desk, Billy. It's time to go to lunch." Now I know what you want me to do and what happens next.

I am a concrete thinker. I interpret language literally.
Don't tell me something is a "piece of cake" when there is no dessert in sight and what you really mean is, "This will be easy for you to do." Idioms, puns, nuances and sarcasm are lost on me.

Be patient with my limited vocabulary
It's hard for me to tell you what I need when I don't know the words to describe my feelings. Be alert for body language, withdrawal, agitation, or other signs that something is wrong.

Because language is so difficult for me, I am very visually oriented
Show, rather than tell me how to do something. Patient repetition helps me learn. A visual schedule relieves me of the stress of having to remember what comes next--and helps me meet your expectations.

Focus and build on what I can do rather than what I can't do
I'm constantly made to feel that I'm not good enough. Trying anything new when I am almost sure to be met with criticism becomes something to be avoided. Look for my strengths and you'll find them.

Help me with social interactions
It may look like I don't want to play with the other kids on the playground, but I don't know how to start a conversation or enter a play situation. Encourage other children to invite me to join them at kickball or hoops.

Identify what triggers my meltdowns
Meltdowns and blow-ups are even more horrid for me than they are for you. They occur because one or more of my senses has gone into overload. Figure out why my meltdowns occur and they can be prevented.

Love me unconditionally
Banish thoughts like, "If he would just..." Remember that I did not choose to have autism, and that it is happening to me, not you. Without your support, my chances of successful, self-reliant adulthood are slim. With your support and guidance, the possibilities are broader than you might think. I promise you-I'm worth it.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

What is the DEAL with boys and guns?

Boys and guns. The Deal: What is it???

I'm not a member of handgun control or anything (but that's for another post [as a country our resources are precious enough, we shouldn't be putting our time and energy and money into creating laws that don't generally work and create a lucrative black market when education is warranted] okay, I guess that's for this post) but I'm not a gun fan. In fact, I think they're horrible, disgusting things that should be completely irrelevant except under the most extreme circumstances. As far as I know I've never even been in the same room as a gun (although I HAVE been to a Walmart, does that count?) So the last thing you would expect from my hippie kids is that they'd be turning their forks into guns and shooting each other. But, no, they don't even need forks, they can just use their fingers; and they LOVE it.

Why? WHY???? What is the deal????

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Grateful Dead!

I've apparently run out of things to blog about, so here's some music from a show I went to. Enjoy! :)

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Things that suck: Heel spurs

WTF is a heel spur? Yeah, I had no idea, either, until last week. A heel spur is the result of chronic Plantar Fasciitis, which is caused by "inflammation of the connective tissue that stretches from the base of the toes, across the arch of the foot, to the point at which it inserts into the heel bone." Eventually a crazy, abnormal piece of bone will just fucking grow out of the bottom of your foot like you're some sort of foot mutant creature. What does that mean? It mean your foots hurts a whole lot, and all the time. I am currently a lucky recipient of this wonderful, fabulous, incredibly fucking painful problem.

I like to walk. Not the pansy-ass kind of walking that just gets you from one place to another, I like to do that fucking kick-ass power walking where you look like an idiot because it seem like you're repeatedly punching yourself in the face. (please don't ask me how many times I've actually punched myself in the face, because... well, just don't ask). That kind of walking. I go up hills and around corners and I get up to 5 mph. Or, at least I used to do this, before the heel spur (and when I knew where my iPod was. sniff). I figure all this power walking I do (did) probably caused this foot problem of mine, but DAMN that sucks, because I can't do it anymore, because my foot hurts all the damn time. It's been about 5 months now.

Symptoms of a heel spur include: Pain. Yeah, that's it, just a lot of fucking pain. In your HEEL. Treatment for a heel spur? Rest. Advil. Stretching. Ice. And complaining. Lots and LOTS of complaining. I have an appointment with a sports medicine type podiatrist dude on Friday, but if my internet research is correct (and when has internet research ever been wrong?) he's going to tell me that I need to rest and take advil and stretch it and put ice on it. Yeah, that's what I've BEEN doing, asshole. For FIVE months now!

You know what you're NOT supposed to do for a heel spur? Ignore it and hope it goes away on its own. Yeah, for some reason ignoring the incredibly painful and abnormal piece of bone that's growing out of the bottom of your foot just doesn't work. I know, I know, you're now thinking to yourself "wow, I really thought that ignoring the problem and hoping it goes away on its own would be the remedy here. In fact, I was going to ask if you'd considered trying ignoring it." I KNOW, right? But, no, that doesn't work. For some reason you continue to need your feet for various things, and all that constant "use" of the damn thing just causes constant "pain," as well. So, I'm trying to rest the damn thing, but resting the damn thing is really fucking difficult. It's one thing to not go walking around the hills of Berkeley, but what about when you need to get yourself from one side of the room to the other? You'd better hope there's a skateboard nearby or something because you're going to need your foot to get yourself there. And you know what? There are NO skateboards in my house. I'm forced to drag myself across the room on my broken ass foot every. fucking. time. And even if there was a skateboard, I would probably just fall off it and break my arm, and my kids would point and laugh at me, thereby literally adding insult to injury. LAME!!!!

Friday, July 9, 2010

I miss my iPod

I haven't seen it in about a week. This morning I found my ear buds but they were all alone in the random box they were hiding in. When I think about all those song just trapped in that tiny metal case it makes me want to cry. sob.

iPoooooddddddd.  Where aaarrrreee yyyoouuuuuuuu????? If you can hear me, it will be okay. Just hang on. I'll find you, I promise!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Out of the mouths of babes VI

Me: Child 1, in one minute it's time for bed.

Child 1 (from other room): What?

Me: One minute 'till bed

Child 1: How many?

Me: ONE!!!

Child 1 (sounding like Chong): Whooaaaaahhhhh, Mama.... slooowwww dowwwwwwwn....

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Go here and vote, please!

These are the folks who worked with Child 1 and changed our lives. Apparently Pepsi is giving away grants and you go to their website and vote for an idea, and BIA has an idea to create an integrated preschool for kids with autism in the Bay Area. We need this so much! Please go and vote for these guys! Voting ends on July 31, you have to register with the site to vote, I tried using the Facebook connect thingy and it wouldn't let me. I'm going to leave this at the top of the page until the 31st and, of course, bug you all about it incessantly on Facebook. :)

This is so cool!!

Check out what came in the mail today. Tickets to Jerry Day at Giants stadium, plus a free Jerry bobblehead!! So frickin cool! I hate baseball, but is that really the point here?

Look at the bobblehead!! It's SO ADORABLE!!!

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Out of the mouths of babes V

For some reason Child 1 is currently running around the house growling in his best monster growl "I'm the Leave Me Alone Monster! GRRR!" Okay, I'm cool with that, as long as the Monster knows it's time for bed in 9 minutes. Here's the cute part, though:

"Mama! The Leave Me Alone Monster will now go pee! GRRRR!"

Now he's insisting everybody say everything in Growly Monster Voice. My throat is starting to hurt.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Out of the mouths of babes IV

Last night we got all bundled up because, as I've previously stated, it's July and this is the Bay Area and we were going outside. Child 1 was put in a turtleneck because it's warm and we wanted him to look like a pretentious Ivy League student (WIN!). He's too awesome for that, though. Observe....

Hubs: Child 1, you're wearing a turtleneck!

Child 1: Does this mean I'm a turtle?

Truth in graph form

h/t TWH

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Fireworks fail.

"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco."

Did you know that Mark Twain did not actually say that? Such a bummer, I've spent years living here and enjoying quoting him on that, and all this time I've just been perpetuating a fraud.

It's true, though, because it's really cold here in the summer time. But not only is it cold in the summer, it's very very foggy, especially at the coast, which is where they set off all the fireworks that are close to where we live. I'm thinking that the Bay Area should be allowed to celebrate the Nation's birthday in September instead of July, because do you know what fireworks look like when it's really foggy? Yeah, they look like red, white and blue clouds. Sorry I couldn't get a picture, but it wasn't for a lack of trying.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Autism is not fair.

You know, it sucks. It really does. We can try to sugarcoat it, and we can emphasize the positive, and we can marvel in how our lives have been impacted as a result of our experience, but the bottom line is that the goddamn thing fucking sucks. It SUCKS. Because it's unfair. And it has no mercy. No matter what we do, despite our best efforts, it will always rule our lives.

Child 1 was diagnosed when he was 2 and 3/4. (He's 8 1/2 now) The first thing I did after the dx was to go online and find a support group. I found a great place, with great people, but as so often happens with online communities, particularly ones that are unmoderated, things went horribly awry and we needed to find ourselves a new home. So, I started my own board and a bunch of us jumped ship. That was 4 years ago and today we're a very tight knit, very close, VERY exclusive group of women, all of whom have at least one child somewhere on the spectrum. We call it Autism Island, or "The Island," and honestly, I have no idea why. We come and go, depending on what's going on in our lives, but whenever we come back, we're always welcomed with enthusiasm and open arms. We've formed some very unlikely friendships because of autism. I'm a dirty, pinko hippie from Berkeley and I have friends who live in the deep south and go to Tea Parties. We would never in a million years be friends under normal circumstances, but as long as we don't talk about politics, we're good. I suppose you could say that having formed these relationships is a way you can put a positive spin on autism, and that's true, but that doesn't change the fact that it still fucking sucks.

I've known a lot of these women for the whole 6 years that we've been on this autism journey; I've "watched" their children grow up and they've watched mine. In the beginning there was so much uncertainty; none of us had any idea what we were doing, our kids were so small and so fucking dysfunctional and what the hell would the future bring? Would they ever talk? Would they ever poop in the potty? Would they ever sleep through the night? WTF is with the hand flapping? Would they ever TALK???? We've agonized together about vaccines. We've tried therapies, we've tried vitamin supplements, we've tried Hyperbaric Oxygen chambers. We've discussed, at length, every detail of everything we've done, compared notes, watched progress, made suggestions. Some of them work, some of them don't, we've learned to stick with what works and dump what doesn't, and fuck 'em all if they disagree with any of it. Whatever else, though, we've been in it together.

First, a word about Child 1, although this post is not about him. He is awesome. So, so awesome. He's kind, he's super scary smart, he's wonderful, he's so FUCKING gorgeous. He's doing really well, but he has autism. He makes weird noises and he whispers to himself constantly. He'll always be "that weird kid." He may never "fit in." He doesn't understand NT kids and they don't understand him, but he'll find one or two other kids who "get" him and who like him despite his weirdness and he'll probably be fine. I worry about the teen years, but as for right now, he's awesome. So, so, SO awesome. Some of my friends haven't been so lucky, though, and this is the point of why I'm writing this. They haven't done anything very different, they haven't tried anything that we haven't tried, their kids are just as wonderful, just as beautiful and just as awesome. They work just as hard, probably harder, than we do, it's just that their genetic "roll of the dice," as it were, didn't come out as well as ours did, and it's not fair. It's not fair, the arbitrariness of this thing. It's not fair, the uncertainty that we're still plagued by, the new symptoms and behaviors that crop up out of nowhere. It's not fair that nobody in the medical or scientific community can give us any answers about the whys or the whats or the hows about this thing. We're on our own, us autie moms. We've only got each other and sometimes that's just not enough. I think about these moms who are my best friends in this and I wonder if they're bitter because my kid is doing well. Honestly, I would be bitter. I would be pissed. I would, and I do, want some fucking answers. Why does one kid do so well when the other kid doesn't? It's not fair, and it's not right. And it sucks.

Paypal vs. the Government

So, so true

This child is so freakin adorable

Check this out: This is Child 1's Magnadoodle (which we sometimes call a "Magna-McDougal" because we have a cat named McDougal and Child 2 had some trouble pronouncing it the right way). You're looking at the word "ah" sitting at the bottom of what looks like a staircase, but in actuality is a graphical representation of what you look at when you play Rock Band. Here's what it looks like when you play, the singing part is at the top:

I'm pretty sure this is the first line from Tenacious D's Master Exploder. He keeps drawing different versions of this and coming over and making me sing it. He is SO. FREAKIN. ADORABLE !!!!!!!

Friday, July 2, 2010

See? So organized.

I have a LOT of work to do today. Apparently.

"I will rearrange my plans and change for you"

More Avett Brothers? Really? Yes, more! And quit yer bitching! This one comes with song lyrics and a little analysis. Just a smidge, though.

If It's the Beaches
Don't say it's over
Cause that's the worst news I could hear I swear that I will
Do my best to be here just the way you like it
Even though its hard to hide
Push my feelings all aside
I will rearrange my plans and change for you

If I could go back

That's the first thing I would do I swear that I would
Do my best to follow through
Come up with a master plan
A homerun hit, a winning stand
A guarantee and not a promise
That I'll never let your love slip from my hands

If it's the beaches

If it's the beaches' sands you want
Then you will have them
If it's the mountains' bending rivers
Then you will have them
If it's the wish to run away
Then I will grant it
Take whatever what you think of
While I go gas up the truck
Pack the old love letters up
We will read them when we forget why we left here 

I've been listening to these guys a lot lately. You may have noticed. (insert snarky comment here). In addition to their beautiful songs and impressive guitar work there's also  some very smart, very perceptive song writing. A big theme, though, seems to be "rearrange my plans and change for you" so it got me thinking: is that the ultimate love song a man can sing for a woman, that they will change who they are to stay together? I've noticed that theme elsewhere and it's always interested me. Is that what women want men to tell them?

Just something to think about. Thoughts? No? Just me? Okay, whatever :eyeroll: