siiing lagaaato, siiing smooothly flowing from nohhhte to nohhhhte

If I had a nickel for every bad note I heard in a day...
Better yet, if I had a tape recorder for every bad note I heard in a day...
I have taken to calling answering machines as proof. I leave sneaky, small-voiced messages: "Listen to this. These are the...(gasping for breath) orchestra kids...(squeak, sqwak, screeeeeech) practicing for...class."
I try to be quiet, though. I don't want the little ones to know how entirely unformed their skills are, lest they get discouraged and give up as I once did.
Then there are the voice instructors who love to hear themselves "jazz jazz ja(like a new player trying to pick out a song on the guitar)zz jazz jazz." They are all the time singing to themselves things like, "e-yo-e-yo-e-yo" or "oy-yoy-oy-yoy-oy-yoy."
I'm so tempted to pump the volume on my NPR and rap whatever Ira Flato says during Science Fridays. I'm equally interested in being a human beatbox for Gary Eichten. What up, GAREEEE?!

Humanitus Confuciosus

What?! My world, she's a-shaking. Brontosaurus is no longer valid as a scientific term for the long-necked herbivore I have known since my early education.
Don't go changin' / to try and rename me. Billy Joel meets archaeological discovery.
Let it be known that this particular song sends a back-handed compliment marauding as love. Incidentally, my parents cherish this song. Now I will translate it with my babelfish free services.

Just The Way You AreThe Stranger Released: 1977

Don't go changing, to try and please me
You never let me down before
Don't imagine you're too familiar
And I don't see you anymore.... why would you imagine that unless somebody said it?

marginally romantic part omitted for time/space/the point I'm trying to make

Don't go trying some new fashion
Don't change the color of your hair don't tell me what to do! ASS!
You always have my unspoken passion
Although I might not seem to care so you admit to ignoring me?!

I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard subtext: you're not worth my thinking
I just want someone that I can talk to
I want you just the way you are. f you. you can have yourself just the way you are.

A House Divided

I've already decided whose vote I will have to cancel out.
Our dining room table is a microcosm. We are not a nation, but a house divided.
Now, I love political rhetoric as much as the next gal*, but can we talk about this?
Excerpt from the supper hour:
"Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't"
"You're voting for BUSH!?!?!"
"Hey, give him four more years. All he needs is more time to get it done."
"Shut up, shut up right now. You are not going to vote for..."
"Coercing a vote does not count as honoring a person's right to..."
"It's the American way. You can't vote for Bush."

*John Kerry is so funny. These are paraphrases (one may be verbatim) of his tricky word palindromes.
America is not a nation of blue and red states, but the state of red white AND blue!
I'm tired of politicians who talk about family values and don't value families!
I won't just kill the terrorists, I'll terrorize the killers!

Girl Makes Pasta without Help from Mother

It's making headlines. I created Macaroni and Cheese from a box. I didn't even call Mom at work to ask whether I should re-cover the pot post-cheese. (Possibly to the detriment of the final meal. It's hard to say. I don't blame myself.)
My culinary skills are very similar to my spatial awareness and abilities of estimation...which is to say, non-existent.
In other news, my friends had a baby. (It's not making headlines, but it is of note.) Thanks to a C-section delivery, Baby is a charming little person who came out looking very well-formed and not at all conical. Baby was impossibly swaddled at our first meeting, thus I did not inspect for all 20 digits. Assume they are present.
It was a long weekend without bloggish capabilities. The current dial-up situation can be remedied for a mere $40 per month. Which brings me back to food, an immeasurable expense: I volunteer to stop eating all vegetables in the interest of a cable modem.
I will take one for the team.

The Really Fake World

Last evening, I was enjoying a pleasant evening at a public house downtown when I was rudely interrupted by the incomprehensible drunken slurs of a celebrity guest.
This manboy proudly identified himself as a "Road Rules Extreme" cast member. The crowd: underwhelmed. I suddenly felt sad for the young man because he was under the assumption that he had been granted some sort of measurable fame.
I should clarify that I didn't feel that bad. I mean, he gets to go anywhere and do anything as long as he allows an invasion of his privacy. Are people so desperate for attention? Why is America so desperate to watch? Is it just because we want to see ourselves on tv that we continue to tolerate--demand--more of this rubbish, believing that eventually we will end up on the screen?
[the sound of my head exploding]
As the one-man camera crew caught us rejoicing over something completely unrelated, I realized that I will be edited into a character who cheers for the imbecile. Oh, the shame.

The Happy Few...

who stand outside my office door talking about girls they like or boys they don't, and have no idea that i am hearing every word.
I am.
And if I seem angry, it's because I'm formulating a new political platform.
Citizens for the Standardization of Tampon Dispensers. These machines should all take a quarter. Or a dime. Or a nickel. Someone decide and unify. But for the love of everything holy, don't make me wait while my uterus is sloughing.

hard:growth:size:matters

Inappropriate. Email clogging my junk folder. For no particular reason, I am receiving unsolicited messages about a body part I do not possess. In addition, it shows an irritating purposeful misuse of the colon.
Hard is to growth as size is to....uncomfortable woman suspicious of emails from people she doesn't know?
Now, I see an opportunity to use the internet for marketing purposes. However, perhaps these entrepreneurs could use a blog to express their faith in the product.
Let there be blogs.

TYPICAL

This is so accurate. I so do this.
I started a blog freaking two weeks ago* and then I lost it**. Lost the username, password, login ID. All of it.
I even titled it "page not found," thinking I was clever.
I plan to keep very good track of my new blog. Here blog, blog.

*sense of time and estimation are all relative in my brain
**http://www.threemonthpicnic.blogspot.com