the voices dying with a dying fall

   Song of the Hour: Waiting for the Miracle, Cohen

Well, I haven’t written in forfuckingever. I suppose I’ve had thoughts of some sort or other, but not having a schedule to cram blogging in seems to mean no blogging. I’m sure you found something better to do with that 10 minutes of your week, so I don’t feel particularly guilty about it. Although I almost posted a link to Andy’s blog instead of mine because I thought his post on faith/religion was so interesting… but I didn’t get around to it. It’s here, if you have a minute. "Luminous beings are we"- that’s the one. Read it. What better have you got to do?

I’ve been spending a lot more time with Joss, so I’m pretty locked into mommy-mode. I’ll tell you though, I am so happy that he’s changing schools next year- I used to like Brentwood Elem. a lot, but there are few things sadder than having to hear your kid say, "mommy… I don’t have any friends." And it pisses me off, because I’ve worked hard on 50 levels of manipulative subterfuge to keep Joss from absorbing all the subliminal racist attitudes that saturate his environment- and for him to tell me that the other kids pick on him because he’s white- goddamn it, that gets my proverbial goat. Bunch of snot nosed elementary school kids undoing almost 9 years of hard work and dedication… anyway. bitter here. I hope he can get a better start at whatever school he’s being mandatorily reassigned to.

Otherwise my week has been consumed by uhaul (EVERYBODY is moving this month, apparently) and family hijinks of the "where is the tree frog now? Oh, it’s stuck to the kitchen window" variety. How we got an adorable tree frog stuck in our house, I’ll never know. But it was three days of trying to find it again to put it outside- which was heart wrenching because Joss had named it, creatively, "froggie" and cried when he had to let it go. Kid needs a pet. I’m on it. Low maintenance reccomendations welcome.

Oh yeah, and Sims 2. Sims 2 has also infiltrated my life, to a somewhat uncomfortable level. Why is that game so addictive? Why do I care so much whether or not they’re happy? I’m obsessed. Making the little people and little houses is so damn absorbing- what’s wrong with me? It’s crack I tell you, crack. And I can’t get a damn cheat window to open, so I’m stuck with the game budget and my little people can’t afford my beautiful houses- it’s depressing. Why do I think this matters to you in the least? Why, it doesn’t, of course. I need to complain. That’s all. And so I have.

Saw X-3. Much lost in the way of background stories, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Just to see kelsey grammar in blue fur was worth it. And lots of people died in a there-are-consequences-to-war way that’s refreshing in the face of patriotism saturated current events. (you may debate whether or not that last comment was really necessary. I did, and concluded that it was.)

It’s weird how my mind’s awhirl with everything from the material properties of metals & plastics to civil liberty infringements vs national security, and even diagnosing peronality disorders in children- yet still, I have nothing really to write about. Maybe I can get my shit together in a communicable fashion in the next day or two. Or maybe it will all just fade like so much personal history soon to be forgotten… whatever. doesn’t matter.

My other mommy moment of the week: Joss and I were watching cartoons or something, and a Pringles commercial came on- two potato chips flying around flew together to make a little heart, and Joss said "awww…." 1/2 second pause, "hey mommy, I called the pringles commercial people and told them to do that for you. that’s for you." big grin. it was precious.

ok, I’ll try not to write anymore unless I actually have something to say, but I’m not making any promises.

love.