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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

2004-11-10 ... 1:53 p.m.


There is a band called Tree Wave, they are from Texas, and they use Ataris and old computers and stuff to make music but it's not all chilly and alienating and noisy, but rather nice and melodic and intriguing. They have a single called "Sleep" that is downloadable.

There is a song called Movin' To My Beat by J. Boogie and The People Under The Stairs that reminds me of everything that was great about 1980s Prince. It is the happymaker.

I hope I am not the only one who found the repetition of the phrase "dead animal" oddly charming here. Best line: "You may put it in a bag or a box if you wish." Or maybe the best line is: "You can also send an email," because then one thinks of the civil servant who gets emails with subject lines like "DEAD ANIMAL." Oh jeez the whole page is perfect, it's like a found poem. About dead animals. I weep with joy.

So much good news from Ghana!Cassava production is way, way up! Too bad not more foodstuffs were exhibited at the pavilion though.


I am not much into videotaping my kid, but here are a few weekend moments I wish I could rewind and see again and again:

1. Nora, dressed in a plastic Viking helmet and her Che Guevara t-shirt, playing the harmonica. She was even doing deep jug-band-style up-and-down knee-bends after every other chord or so, and I was almost dead with the giggles.

The following night was not quite as merry, and Nora was in Tired Baby Code Red Mode, AAAA-OOOOGGGA AAAA-OOOOGGGA like a submarine movie, all full of testing behavior and frustration. After the tenth time I told her "no" about something, she collapsed on the floor sobbing and then rolled over, found the harmonica, and lay there bleating on it for a while. There are no deeper blues than the toddler blues.

2. It is Nora's bedtime, and we are snuggling in the rocking chair. She used to just suck down her bottle in silence, but lately there have been many Things To Talk About in the rocking chair---sometimes she goes over her day, sometimes she demands "bunny," which is my cue to recite as much of Goodnight Moon as I can remember, and sometimes she makes a strange-cadenced list of all the people in her family, or at least all the people that make up her known universe (a list that includes The Cat and Purple Dog). This particular night we were rocking in silence, however, when she suddenly said, "Baby."

"You're my baby," I said, kissing her on the head.
Then she stuck her finger up my nose and said, "Mommy."

3. The Cat lying on the living room rug, and Nora standing over her with one leg up in the air, asking, "Ride?" Um, no. Don't ride the cat.


1. Hobnobbed face to face with the great Maciej Ceglowski, who I linked in the last entry and am so not going to link again because that just makes me look like a sycophant or a stalker. He had been on a business trip in a faraway Chicago suburb, and bravely fought rush-hour expressway traffic just to come to my house and meet me. Personally I would find that to be a waste of time and petrol, but hopefully he did not, even though, get this: I forgot to feed him anything. I had been all prepared to play hostess and set out nibbles and then he produced a bottle of wine and my tiny butterfly brain apparently got distracted by something alcoholic this way coming. Maciej, I hope you forgive me.

2. I went to the zoo and saw several erect monkey penises and a bear getting in a Jerry-Springer-style shoving match with another bear. Many of the animals were sleeping, which didn't bother Nora, as sleep is one of her favorite topics. She repeatedly asked me to put a blanket on a sleeping lion, and did not seem convinced when I said that the lion did not need a blanket. I think I made something up about how the lion's mommy will soon come in to put a blanket on the lion, just to shut her up. You've heard of the Father Of Lies? I'm turning into the Mommy Of Lies.

On the zoo grounds I found a discarded ribbon that says DRUGS DESTROY DREAMS. So that explains why my dreams are all destroyed!

3. Mass-marketed chocolate does not normally appeal to me, with the notable exception of Reese's peanut butter holiday shapes (puffier than the cups! yummier than the cups!) I tasted Godiva and other snooty chocolates at an early age and am now mostly ruined for any vending-machine snack. However, this weekend I had a Twix for the first time. Have you had a Twix? They are good.

4. From the bus window, on the same day, I saw a guy beating a tree with a hockey stick and a woman wearing a coat that I swear was made out of shag carpeting. Also a sign claiming that Pepsi and Doritos were EVEN BETTER TOGETHER, a statement that I question.

5. Thanks to those people who read my plaintive whining about childcare and who offered suggestions, or even outright offered to babysit. The good news is that we seem to have hired a sitter, although the bad news is that she cannot start until Thanksgiving week, so we need to continue the makeshift NoraWatching arrangements for a little while longer. Good thing she is such an excellent napper. Children don't ever stop napping, do they? Please tell me they never stop napping.

6. Today is Arthur Rimbaud's Death Day, a personal holiday for me. I celebrate by drinking a lot and trading guns to Arabs. Other personal holidays that I urge you to observe with me are LobsterPlath Day (February 11), the day Sylvia roasted her head and also the day the world's largest lobster, indeed the world's largest crustacean, was caught off the coast of Nova Scotia in 1977. It weighed 44 pounds! There is also Obvious Metaphor Day, when creative-writing students all over the world craft vignettes in which girls do things like leave their suitcases (BAGGAGE) on their ex-boyfriends' beds (SEX).

Mark thy calendars!

---mimi smartypants only wants her fair share.


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