125,000

What girls want:

A really big hammer.

I was stroking one lovingly last night at Home Depot, admiring its curve, its weight, its shiney head...I was standing in between these two Carharted Michiganders and murmuring to the display wall. Then I moved on to a a really big socket wrench, mmmmm. I'm such a tool slut.

We've been hammering T-nuts into Alexis' new climbing wall. I hammered so hard my right arm got red and itchy, and my muscles spasmed. It would have been better with a big hammer.


I think a new-year's resolution should be to not leave the house looking totally questionable. I mean, where I grew up, dressing to go out meant washing the manure off of at least one hand. But here in Ann Arbor, folks look askance when I go shopping in my purple flowered pajamas and cowboy kerchief (not cowboy style, you see, it has actual cowboys on it - lassoin', ridin' ponies and breakin' broncos).

Speaking of cowboys, we have been obsessing recently over the Outdoor Life Network's PBR rodeo coverage. Their tagline reads: "It's not *if* someone will get hurt, it's when and how bad." It's good to watch rodeos.

114,000

The Dog Ate My Valium

I only had one...and I was saving it for a special occasion.


I took it out the night before Thanksgiving...we were driving to Chicago in horrible, horrible weather. Earlier in the afternoon, I was picking up two pies at Zingermans and the wind/ice/rain/snow was whipping against the tent. I hugged Carol and headed out into the nightmare of it. I was so worried about the drive (I'm usually nervous, but this time doubly so) that I took out the treasured yellow pill and put it on the table.

Alexis convinced me not to take it, and by the time I saw the innocuous little package again, it had been gummed beyond recognition by a dog who I'm sure did not appreciate its effects. This is a dog who chews on pine, a dog who drags her butt across carpets...not a dog who would recognize the subtle ease of tension and wonderous state of "I don't give a shit" that Valium lends.

This is a very bad dog.

77,000

52,000

800 died together in a train.

44,000

10,000 people in a single town

23,000

22,000 as of this morning.

For whom?

I keep checking the news obsessively to watch the death toll rise in Asia.

This morning, they said 5,800 people killed in a matter of minutes.

This evening, almost 11,000.

Now, they say 13, 300.



One, two,
Me, You.

Three, four,
Out the Door.

Five, six,
Dirty Tricks.

Seven, eight,
Wall of Water.

No One, No Where

Do things you fear always come to pass?

By thinking on them, meditating, obsessing, do you lean slowly-slowly-slowly towards them?

Do you, too, worry over bridges? Do you, too, feel that if you let go, just for a second, your car will steer itself gently over the guardrail, arcing over the gray water?

Maybe it's good that I don't live near rivers anymore, though their absence is killing me in small ways.


The things I fear:
-isolation
-being unknown
-mediocrity
-the sky

The things I love:
-crowded busses
-touching other's pain
-zeppelins and blimps
-slow things
-quiet and loud things
-my new David Lang album (the Passing Measure)
-smart people

The things I hate:
-see above list of fears...I hate them *because* I fear them, or maybe it's the other way around
-superficiality (don't assume, I really do hate it)
-late afternoon
-the dark cold...like deep winter nights...like tonight
-the word *consumer*
-becoming nervously tongue-tied
-spelling

the dinosaur family says "hi"

Grocery Store - 11am.
Exchanging clementines.

A new quarter ride for whiney children...brightly colored dinosaur babies on the half-shell in the back of a jeep. Hot pink dinosaur wife in the front seat, smiling, slightly open mouth, leaning in for a kiss...

So, parents, pay a quarter, and your child will get to pretend that they are some sort of 50s dinosaur dad...complete with 50s dinosaur dad plaid pants, 50s dinosaur dad brylcreemed hair, 50 dinosaur dad sock garters. Taking the family out for a sunday drive.

Four kids in the back, all safely tucked in their shells, bottoms only slightly yolky...


Are we there yet?

That does it!

Turned in three pieces of supporting documentation this afternoon between 4:30and 5:00pm. Then, just as it had started, it was done, and I had finished my first semester of Graduate School. Only five more to go, you know.

I had the urge to celebrate, to rock so hard, I went and bought myself...office supplies! Yes, five shiney new periwinkle binders for my classes next semester. I tried to buy books, but they aren't shelved yet for Winter term. Hah! Look at me bein' all proactive n' shit.

My classes are going to ROCK next semester, I can't wait! I'm allowed to get excited, right??

One Degree from Snark

Thank the lord above that we got the house insulated this fall. It is one degree out, and there is no way I'd have been surviving this shit without being wrapped in a blanket. With a hot water bottle. And two dogs.

As it is, I'm just wearing my pumpkin hat, pajamas and bootie socks, and let me tell you ladies and gentlemen...I feel just fine.

Christmas Tree a' twinklin'.
All animals in, curled up and calm.
Tried to convince Kordax to cuddle, but he bit my boob. Confused victim that I am, fed him a banana. A sweet one, just as he likes.

Only problem - only 7 of the 15 pages written for tomorrow. Gonna be a late night.

But damn, only one door between me and the end of the first semester. Can't stop now - open up.