droller than thou.

on gardening, in nine easy steps.

So, this is how gardening works:

1) Get an idea about what you want to do.

2) Start to implement that idea.

3) Realize that in order to implement your idea, first you must do something else.

4) While you're doing that something else, see another thing that needs your attention.

5) Spend the rest of your day trying to deal with the new thing.

6) Don't really finish the new thing, but get back to the second thing you needed to do.

7) Realize, as you're working on the second thing, that there's a whole other gigantic project that needs to be done before you can even think about doing that second thing, let alone the first thing, and how the hell did you not realize that before?

8) Alternate between fantasies of how proud you'll be once you've done it all by yourself/hiring someone to do the rest for you.

9) Repeat steps 1-8.

Current Project: demolishing/rebuilding retaining wall; crying; building sinewy forearms.

P.S. Does anyone have any advice on how to get rid of grass in a timely manner without crazy harsh poison?

cookie time.

Sometimes we all just need a little cookie time.

on the inappropriateness of easter. and boobz.

This morning I saw a Yahoo! headline which read "Thousands of Children Expected at White House Easter Egg Roll."  I, of course, read it as "Thousands of Children Expected to Eat White House Eggrolls."  I was confused.  But then I read the actual article and I was even more confused...Why would Fergie perform at an Easter event for children?  She doesn't exactly ooze wholesomeness (which is generally the way one expels one's wholesomeness, I'm told).  

Which reminds me of two things:

1) Holidays that I don't celebrate¹ are annoying.  Yesterday The Mister and I wanted to go out for lunch and had to settle on our third or fourth choice because everything else was closed.  "Oh, look at me!  I want to be with my family on a special day!  Wah wah wah!"  Suck it up and cook me some quiche, asshole.

2) Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels makes my soul bleed.  The women on this season are somehow even more hideous than the ones they managed to scrape up last time (Daisy, anyone?).  I only saw part of one episode and I was severely disturbed.  The women competed in the "First Annual Truck Stop Games" or some such cleverly named contest, which involved performing various tasks (belly flopping into a pool of beer, stripper pole dancing, etc.) whilst clad in basically nothing.  They were judged by  a panel of leering, overweight rednecks.  The most disturbing part by far, however, was the fact that the audience was mostly comprised of families: lots of young girls and mothers who enthusiastically clapped and cheered.  I kept searching the mothers' faces, sure that I would see a cringe, a frown, even a clearly faked smile--some indication that they realized their eight-year-old daughters shouldn't be exposed to such over the top misogyny...But, of course, no.  

It freaks me out that adolescents grow up with such twisted examples of desirability and sexuality these days.  I mean, clearly idealized images of women have always been just that--idealized and therefore not real to some degree.  But it seems like things have reached some sort of stripper aesthetic extreme in the past decade or so, with this weird sense that women are empowered by being hyper-sexual, even while they're helping to exploit themselves.  It's all too bizarre.  

It seems pretty clear to me that shit like this is part of a long-building backlash against feminism--or at least a backlash against strains of feminism that existed several decades ago, or maybe even just what people  wrongly perceive feminism to be--even if they don't consciously realize it.  There's a book that addresses all this stuff, called Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and Rise of Raunch Culture.  Maybe I should actually get around to reading it someday?

And that, children, is the story of how the Obamas, Fergie, and Bret Michaels ate eggrolls with the Easter Bunny and a cadre of strippers on the White House lawn.  

The End.

¹When/if we have les bebes, we will definitely be doing the secular Easter Bunny thing--you know, jellybeans not Jesus?

on things, stuff, items, etc.

I don't like starting off a post by apologizing for not posting in a long time, so that's not what I'm doing.  I'll just say that I wish I would have posted something sooner than now, but, alas, I've been lazy and busy...but mostly lazy.  Also, nothing really that exciting and/or infuriating has happened to me lately.  How sad.  

But, in the interest of informing those of you who actually care what I'm up to, here are...some things I've been up to:

1) Not exercising.  Our elliptical machine has been making weird, knocking sounds, which makes me fear for various things, and so I've been avoiding it.  Also, I'm lazy.

2) House-hunting with some friends who are moving to Albuquerque in the near future.  They found a really awesome (like, really really awesome) Mid-Century modern house (not pictured) in my childhood neighborhood--a location which just further ups the awesome quotient.  We took a walk around the area, which I hadn't done since I lived there in 1996, and I was shocked at how many other rad Mid-Century modern houses there are there.  (For those of you locals who are interested, the neighborhood is, apparently, called "Sandia Hills" or possible "Sandia Ridge": the area bounded by Indian School & Constitution, and San Mateo & Washington, near Altura Park.)  It was like a lightbulb went off in my brain: it appears that my deep love for this style of house (which, as my sister and I say, "looks like a library") has its roots in my subconscious/memories of childhood.  The house we grew up in, and loved dearly, certainly looked like a library.  It's just weird that I never made the connection until now...I hope they get the house!

3) Nannying (or babysitting, if you prefer) for a four-month-old.  He's cute and heavy and drools a lot.  I basically make funny faces at him all day.  It's pretty fun.

4) Avoiding yard work.  I know I need to do it, but, god...I just don't want to.  I wish I was rich and could just pay someone to do the landscaping for me...Any takers?  I can pay you in stew and...more stew.  I made a lot of stew recently.

5) Enjoying school for the most part.  Right now I'm learning (X)HTML/CSS, Photoshop, JavaScript, and database design with SQL.  I've had my ups and downs--particularly in my JavaScript class which involves far too much math for my tastes--but I'm pretty pleased overall.  Learning the various programming languages is like solving puzzles, which satisfies my deep, nerdly cravings.  I also get to work out some of my artsy-fartsy juice with the actual design aspect.  Um...note to self: never use the term "artsy-fartsy," especially when it's followed by the word "juice."  That's disgusting.

6) Growing my hair out.  How long will this last (a pun, haha!)?  I have no idea.  I know that deep down in my heart I'm meant to have very short hair, and I'm positive I will be called back to the sisterhood of the pixie cut soon, but I'm having fun for the time being.  I just discovered that I can kind of do a sloppy Princess Leia-type thing with little buns on the side of my head, although I prefer to think of it as a kind of Swedish farm girl thing--but, like, after she has a roll in the hay with Bjorn and it's rather disheveled/full of hay.  But instead of hay it's weeds.  I mean, no, wait; not weeds.  Something...else.  Rainbows?  Yes.  Ahem.  My ultimate goal is to rock the milk maid look, but with bangs.  So much excitement, I know.  Try to contain yourselves.

7) Planning a trip to Chicago.  The Mister and I are going for a wedding this summer, from May 30th through June 8th.  Please heap upon me your suggestions for such things as: where to stay, what to do, and, most importantly, where to eat.  My family is wholly comprised of dedicated food tourists, and eating will definitely be at the top of the priority list.  Also, any real, live Chicago denizens are encouraged to, you know, hang out with us and crap.  I want to see you transplanted Michiganders, you know who you are!