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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2002-10-11 ... 11:04 a.m.


I won't bore you by talking too much about Sleater-Kinney, I promise. It was an outstanding show, the best I've ever seen from them, which is a little frightening because it's possible that there is no limit to their getting better and better. I was somewhat amused to witness more "rock star" antics from them than I've seen in the past: they kept everything dark and played a sort of anticipatory feedbacky sound while they walked out to take the stage, and Janet had a long drum solo that segued into "Words + Guitar," and Carrie even showed off some guitar wizardry and weedly-wee chops. Hey, why the fuck not, they've earned it. It just amused me since I remember the days when they were all awkward and apologetic and seemed to have equipment problems during every show.

The Quails opened and were moderately fun. The guitar was a little weak in terms of musicianship, but she certainly can make a lot of noise with that thing, and they seemed to be having a good time.

These early all-ages shows are strange---at one point Carrie Brownstein took the mic and said "You guys, guess what? It's like 8:30. We could all go catch a movie after this." I couldn't sleep for hours afterwards though, all wound up and twitchy in bed at midnight even after a medicinal beer and some Baudelaire at the dining room table, so I am quite loopy and fun today. Just the right amount of missed sleep.

LT being freelance, our finances have their ups and downs. Now is definitely a "down." It's not food-stamp time or anything, but we have to be very careful for the rest of the month, which is not too pleasant seeing as how it's barely even the middle of the month right now. He will be making some money soon, but it is not as regular as it used to be, so those notions of a champagne-and-caviar lifestyle are gone. Now our lifestyle is back to its baseline of grocery-store Pinot Noir and Wheat Thins, which is perfectly acceptable. If it ever drops down to Boone's Farm and Chicken-In-A-Biskit,* we will have to come up with a Plan B.

(*Has Nabisco stopped making this vile product or are they just no longer admitting to it? It is impossible to find online and I know that is how it is [mis-]spelled.)

The point is that I am being frugal right now---packing a lunch, putting off purchases, etc. However, I still feel like I need to go out and at least have minor bar-time with my compatriots, because drinking beer and talking about silly things helps me not be such a mopeyhead. (See Wednesday, and last week, and any one of nearly 500 entries.) Thus, I am starting to think of all money spent in terms of its lost beer-buying power. I worked late the other day, and considered taking a cab home, until I considered that $20 = 6 beers, if you tip. Is that sad? Is that a barfly way to think? I mean, $20 = other things, too---a cheapish meal for two, a brand-new book, a manicure. (Uh, possibly. I am not in much of a position to know what a manicure costs [she says, as she tries to hide her pen-stained and chewed-on hands in her jacket pockets.]) I am not entirely focused on beer. But the weekend approacheth.


Fascinating article that draws parallels between the United States and the decline of the Roman Empire.

Apparently the prostitutes in Detroit are first rate! Sadly, Chicago's are a mixed bag. (Heh heh. "Mixed bag." Like Hooker Snack Mix or something.) And sometimes they rip you off! Can you believe it? Where is the honor?

Martha Stewart, Wittgenstein, and Goethe discuss home decorating and color choices.

No sir, I don't have any monkeys in my pants. No I do not. Complete absence of monkeys in my pants, swear to god.


1. In fourth grade, we had to design a machine. The catch was that our machine had to use all of the simple machines (lever, pulley, inclined plane, wheel, and wedge). Of course, this is totally weird, because I bet no engineer sits down to design a machine and forehead-slappingly says "Wait! I didn't use a pulley in this! Gotta have a pulley, man! I'll just stick it in over on the side here." However, I have always liked formalistic constraints, like writing sonnets or composing 12-tone music. It can be soothing sometimes to color inside the lines and work within boundaries. (My machine was an automatic dog-food dispenser. It used a PULLEY to hoist a fifty-pound sack of dog food up twelve feet in the air and then an INCLINED PLANE for the kibble to roll down into the bowl. And a couple of other simple machines in between. It was just a tad overdesigned. And overlarge. My dad kept the plans because they made him laugh so hard.)

2. In second grade I made a diorama of a Japanese tea plantation.

3. My senior year of college I translating some passages from The Bacchae and then wrote a commentary on my own translation, which made me feel like a real grown-up Greek scholar.

4. In seventh grade I wrote a song parody to the tune of "Hey Mickey" that was all about Homer's Odyssey. Oy, it was terrible. But fun.

5. I have always had a thing for map-making.

6. Every single assignment in my college Romantic Literature class, because the professor was a nutcase (I seriously had a [marijuana-induced] theory that he was from another planet and had a slightly malfunctioning Babel Fish in his ear), and I quickly realized that I could let my crazy imagination go and write really weird papers that made their own internal, sleep-deprived, visionary sense. (Only appropriate for Romantic Lit.)


I shaved my legs this morning. I had been enjoying being a touch on the hairy-legged side these past few days----"I'm a bee!" I kept thinking. "I need this hair on my legs to collect pollen! Bzzz bzzz!" But this morning I took a super-long shower, and I kind of ran out of things to do in the shower, and thus the razor made a guest appearance on Mimi's Shower Show. I have new girly shaving cream, which I bought on sale without really looking at it, and this morning I noticed that the new shower cream is "Glistening Pear" formula. Isn't that gross? Why is the pear glistening? Has it been waxed or coated in lard?


Because when you are alone in the house and manic and restless, you can let loose with a stream-of-consciousness jive-talking Wordy Rappinghood monologue to and about the cat, "Hey Cat! You are a cat, word up! Were you aware of this fact? The fact of your cat-ness? Stone cold feline action! Watchoo doing today, cat? Just hanging on the flippety-flop? Sho' nuff, sho' nuff. Aw, kitty, where you going? Don't be playing me like that. Why you gotta be all kinds of up in my grill with the claws and shit? Fine, be that way. Go back to sleep."

---mimi smartypants bought you a soda and tried to kiss you in the parkinglot.


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