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April 19, 2007

Dots, for I am too Tired to Make Paragraphs

  • I guess I don't have to say how horrified and disgusted I am with the profilation of the VT killer's homemade snuffish videos and photos being plastered everywhere. I especially enjoyed opening cnn.com this morning, with my child by me, and being greeted by a large photo of that motherfucker pointing a gun at us. Good morning, Sunshine! You're now traumatized for life. The news won't show flag-draped caskets of our soldiers returning from Iraq, but they'll show this bullshit. I tell ya, I'm so glad I made the decision 15 years ago to not go into news journalism as I'd planned for most of my life.
  • Aside from Andrew Bird and being horrified, I've spent the entire week cleaning and packing. The new agent started showing our house today. We had two lookers. They stayed awhile, according to the neighbor. No one received parking tickets or summonses. They left business cards, which none of the past agents have done. I hope that means something. And by "something" I mean "we'll be getting an offer because the 7-11 up the street that closed last summer is being converted into a sleazy-looking liquor store, and the awesome donut place across the street is for sale and I can't live here anymore!
  • I've learned that I can drown a miserable week by buying sock yarn, which I think means I have an official problem, especially since I'm too tired to knit.
  • I have acquired two Andrew Bird CDs this week and yet, I was in such a foul mood today that they made me sad. So instead I've been listening to London Calling in its entirity on constant loop all day. Has there ever been a better album made? I think not. This is, without doubt, the worst album ever made.
  • I want to spend all day tomorrow at Hartford Coffee. And maybe buy a new desk chair.
  • I have to make a seperate list that entails the multitude of weirdness Clara Jane has exhibited this week.
  • We have a new inhabitant at our house. Her name is Baby Emily. She was three for her birthday. She has just a little bit of hair. Her hair's green. At least, that's what I'm told. I haven't actually met Baby Emily, for she exists solely in Clara Jane's imagination.

    As a big fan of imaginary friends - mine hung around until my age was in the double-digits - I'm thrilled by this. And yet, a bit creeped out. I don't know why. I know it's normal. I wasn't normal, but everything worked out mostly okay for me. I can't tell if Baby Emily is a seperate entity from Clara Jane, or if Baby Emily is an alter-ego she's created for herself. There's a girl named Emily in her daycare class. Is she the inspiration for Baby Emily? I don't think so, because Daycare Emily doesn't have green hair. I just don't know. There is so much going on it that little blonde head of Clara Jane's, stuff I have no control over, and it makes me want to take a Xanax.

  • Tonight, she was sitting in the backseat, laughing hysterically at what? I have no idea. So I asked her, "Clara Jane, what's so funny?" She snorted and said, "Me," then resumed her hysterics.

  • Speaking of hysterics, Clara Jane is no longer allowed to watch "American Idol". I mean, I try to keep her away from commercial adult television, but she always seems to catch a performance or two on "AI".

    Yes, I watch "American Idol". Shut up.

    Anyway, I was watching Tuesday's "Idol" last night on the Tivo. Clara Jane heard Melinda Doolittle singing Trouble is a Woman and, because my kid has good sense, she came running, overcome by excitment, and danced like I've never seen her dance before. We had to watch the performance eight times. We had to dance with her. Life was joyful again! And then she said it.

    "I need to see the boy with the curls."

    Not thinking it was any big deal I flippantly said, "He's not on the show anymore. They sent him home."

    My child face crumpled like I'd just told her our dogs had eaten our cat. "That ... makes ... me ... so ... sad!" she said before completely falling the fuck apart. She wailed and sobbed to the point of hiccups. To the point where I was pretty sure she was going to vomit. B. held her tight while she bawled and screamed into his shoulder. The only thing that calmed her was Chris' mediocre, losing performance of "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic".

  • Clara Jane has started writing lyrics. Remember the falling-down pizza dance from nearly a year ago? Well, not only does she still do the dance in a manner that reflects the progress of her coordination, but she has started singing lyrics to the tune. They change every time, and I'm lucky if I can understand half of what she's singing. She always sings about falling down, which makes me think that perhaps she's composing a song about a dance step, like "The Twist", "Mashed Potato Time" or Walk it Out. But then the lyrics vary, depending on what she's done recently. She's also been adding lyrics to Pachelbel's Canon in D, which is also programmed into her $5 pink piano. Today's version was about flowers and what a beautiful day it was.

  • Is it any wonder I'm so very, very tired?

Posted by Robin at April 19, 2007 09:00 PM

Comments

i think our weird kids should get together and form a band or something. they're both blonde little nutters with mothers born on the same day. they'd probably take over the world.

Posted by: suzie at April 20, 2007 12:24 AM

Blame it on the house you live in right now....

At least it's being shown, that's a plus, and a plus that they actually stayed awhile.

CJ is perfectly normal. Deep breathe.

Cassie

Posted by: Cassie at April 20, 2007 09:54 AM

Wow... The worst album ever made costs twenty six dollars. I've bought some bad ones, but I guess I got a real deal! ;)

Posted by: Debbie at April 20, 2007 11:25 AM

Mmm London Calling. If there are better, there aren't many.

Writing lyrics to Pachabel's Canon, she has a good future ahead of her:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdxkVQy7QLM

Posted by: Eden at April 20, 2007 11:42 AM

That's great that she's making up lyrics. It sounds like she's been exhaustingly manic lately, but how cool is it to just come up with songs out of the blue. Especially to classical music, I'm loving that!

Posted by: Amy in StL at April 20, 2007 01:30 PM

Your daughter will grow up to be a superstar. I cannot wait to see her on American Idol years from now winning it...

x

Posted by: CJ at April 20, 2007 03:08 PM

Everything Clara Jane does points to her genius. Except her love of the boy with the curls. Oh well, we all need a little mediocrity in our lives.

Posted by: Dixie at April 20, 2007 03:11 PM

You're right -- CJ should never watch AI again --ever. In love with the "boy with the curls" - Dix is right -- everyone needs a little mediocrity in their lives and I guess he is hers.

London Calling is a completely perfect album. Completely.

Posted by: Katya at April 20, 2007 04:50 PM