Oh! Darling

This weekend, Lacey and I made our way up to Edmond to see Across The Universe because the Norman theater is stupid and won't show anything but Jessica Alba movies. It is a known fact that I am on Team Beatles and am an easily entertained sap, so it should be no surprise that I fucking loved this movie. It inspired several thoughts:

1. Evan Rachel Wood is really dating Marilyn Manson?
2. Selma Hayek might be the hottest woman alive.
3. Once, when L and C-tina and I were much younger, C-tina dressed up like a boy, L and I donned defunct dance costumes and videotaped a rather racy and strange interpretation of "Oh! Darling." I cannot, for the life of me, remember why we would to this, but it confirms that we were truly odd girls.
4. I am hopelessly and eternally in love with every Beatles song ever.
5. I would marry Jim Sturgess. He just looks so lovable. And he's British. And he sings. I don't know.
6. I would name our children Vera, Chuck and Dave. But seriously, is it weird that I'd name them Sadie, Jude and Lucy?

Other thoughts: yes, the movie was certainly cheesy, the narrative trite, the performances imperfect, but somehow, all of those shortcomings converged to create a truly endearing experience. It's like you just overlook the ridiculousness of it (uh, hello, Bono? Eddie Izzard? Joe Cocker?) with the same enthusiasm when you plunged headfirst into your parents' worn copy of Rubber Soul. Growing up with Beatles songs in the 80s/90s prevents one from properly contextualizing some of the sentiments. As obvious as it was, it was good to re-hear the lyrics (especially a heartbreaking rendition of "I Want To Hold Your Hand") with a new voice in a historical, although fictional setting. Dumb as it sounds, this movie truly added depth to my understanding and enjoyment of Beatles music. Also, it confirms The Beatles are undoubtedly superior to most everything out there (yes, the Stones) and that their music not only transcends time, but is more than capable of propelling a narrative and compelling genuine emotion.

I've spent the rest of the weekend in this sort of nostalgic fog listening to each album, surprising myself that I do like vinyl better even though I claim it shouldn't make a difference. I want to fall in love to "Something." I want to break up to "I'm Looking Through You." I want to get back together to "Don't Let Me Down." I wanna get it on to "And I Love Her." I want to get married to "Here There and Everywhere." I want to sing "Mother Nature's Son" to my kids. I want to dance around like a dork to "Your Mother Should Know." I want to make dinner to "Her Majesty."

Let it be. That I am a dork.

About that...

I don't want to talk about it.

Blog of Love: Round 6 (fine, I admit that I have no idea what round we're on - happy?)

Bad news. Our little Megster is in LA hanging out with Lauren and Whitney (no Heidi or Spencer), so she's leaving this round in my very (in)capable hands. Don't fret, we had several gmailchat convos and have reached our conclusions, you just have to suffer through my telling of the news:

In the Meg Column we have:

Winner:
Dan of [redacted] fame. Yes, he came late to the game and hasn't been back since, but if you look closely, he's blessed our little operation with a comment (#107). Good enough for the win. This time.

Earning a date:
Actually, I forgot to ask her about this little category, so refer to my picks.

And you're done:
Sorry TK. Too bad Wisconsin beat Iowa.

Way to quit blogging Mike. Middeadsternerinnyc.

And finally, Amish. WTF man. Somehow you got a bye through last round, then you didn't even step anywhere near the plate.

Bee-Spot Bye Bye:

Let me first say, this is really, really hard. Like harder than the SATs and finding a one bedroom apartment that allows dogs combined. Harder than reading The Daily Oklahoman or getting that stupid Feist iPod song out of your head. I've become really attached to you kids. Well, not so much you as the insincere attention that has been lavished upon me. I had a difficult childhood. Also, I suffered the consequences of my decision last week and am a little afraid of what is to come.

Secondly, let me say that I apologize for the delay. I've had a lot going on lately. Like today, I had to take a nap after work, wake up, order mu shu pork with one eggroll, eat it, roll on my floor with my dog, try Sierra Nevada's Anniversary Ale (save your $$ - sucks!), then watch Bush talk about the state of American education by saying something fucktarded like "our childrens are learning." Then I had to repeat the whole mu shu pork/beer/rolling around with dog combo to take my mind off things. But, here I am. Aren't you lucky? No? Fair enough.


We have a winner:
Jeff Weiss is a consummate blogger, insightful layman's musicologist, mindreader. Seriously boys. This guy stepped it up a notch. Wait for it ... we are now Facebook friends - how he knew this was the key to my blog heart, I know not. I think Crimenotes (who did give us a little shout out this week - props) and Jeff might have to fight this one out. Since one of you is in LA and the other in NYC, might I suggest you do the fighting in say, Norman, Oklahoma? Just a thought.

Not far behind:
d - I think he offered up sexual favors. Also, he's good at music picking. And nose picking. Two of my favorite things.

Garrett - for the effective use of blackmail. Well done, well done.

A special category:
Jebus almost got the boot for pretty much making a girl cry on a date. As expected though, Jebus redeemed himself with a few well chosen photos (but hey, let's get serious, are those tapered leg jeans? Also, you know I'm a sucker for anything that comes in a bowl, you...).

I've got some bad news:

It might be petty, but really, do you expect more of me? Sorry The Lost Ogle boys. You're out. But only because you're so much better than me and I'm so fragile. Hope you enjoy your bloggie.

I don't know you, Todd, but Meg mentioned offing you because of your marriage, and on second thought, that's good enough for me too. This blog is not a place of happiness.

Which leads me to you, Clinton. You and Girlfriend are my heroes. Drinkers, lovers, eater of burritos - all around happy in your couplehood. And as such, you must go.

Honorable mention, since Meg didn't have near winners: Shain and Alex, way to fill my real life with, with something? Mostly insults, tranfats (Shain) and cigarettes (Alex).

There you have it.

Cringesday!

Ok, so I have no humiliating pictures to entertain you with (I mean, I do, of course, but I'm lazy). However, instead, I thought I would take a load off and reveal some cringeworthy details about myself and then invite you to join in. By this, I assume you will take it as either an invitation to make fun of me or leave me to question my self worth by going silent. Yay!

1. I enjoy Frito chili pies way too much. If you don't know what this is, you are missing out. Also, I'll tell you the recipe: styrofoam bowl + Fritos + chili + chopped white onions + (yellow) cheddar cheese + plastic fork = heaven. (Mullet optional.)

2. My passport is devoid of stamps. If you or someone you know would like to rectify this, please do contact me.

3. I effing love the movie Center Stage. I would date Peter Gallagher's eyebrows. I put on legwarmers while I watch it.

4. I own legwarmers.



5. I'm actually looking forward to judging at high school debate tournaments with Shain.

6. Shain.

7. [this is my brain not working]

8. DMBMeg is in LA, so blove will have to wait till tomorrow. That means you have one day to woo us. If you have not forgotten or totally lost interest.

9. I took ballet when I was a kid. Once, during parent observation day, I was so nervous when I was doing a split leap over the magic jar or whatever she put in the middle of the room to show us where to jump, I peed midleap. Yes.

10. I have at least 10 items in my closet with the tags still attached. I hate people like that (me).

Your turn!

Oldie McBoringson

Guess what I am? Old and boring. How do I know this? The following is a list of things I either endeavor to do, or have done recently:

• shopped for two ply file folders at Office Max with Shain after we ate a sensible meal at BJs before going to Braum's for dessert
  
• got t-rashed off of three (3) watered down mojitos
• did work at home
• sat in my car to finish an All Things Considered story
• use some sort of fancy Clinique product under my eyes
• made a back up copy of my health insurance card
• got a new air filter and rotated my tires on a Saturday morning
• drove to work with the windows down instead of blow drying my hair
• watched a documentary - in a theater, then actually thought and talked about it
• took a (12) nap(s)
• drove to more than one gas station to comparison shop
• take flax seed pills (3 a day)
• bought the Blue Album (Weezer) and listened to it oh, 47 times in a row
• spent all Sundayevening grocery shopping and cooking dinner for the fam
• went to bed at 9.38pm on a Monday night

The thing that is disturbing is that I'm quite content with this. In fact, these are things I could do more of. Listen to NPR while hanging out in my bed Sunday morning? Sure. Read/drink coffee for hours at a book store? Sign me up. Alphabetize my old textbooks? Why the hell not. Hmm.

Zack Harrison Memorial Monday: Random Crap Edition.

I kind of forgot to post on Friday. It was going to be about beer (surprise!), so I'll save it for this week, since beer and I have the most successful and lasting long term relationship I've ever had e.g. we're not breaking up anytime soon. In the meantime...

Boomer Sooner!

Yup. Steamrolled another team. Also, how come no one ever told me that Tulsa is the Golden Hurricanes? WTF, man. Hurricanes in northeastern OK? Um. The game was a little intense at the beginning, but then the more Shiner I had (shut up) the better we did, so all was well. All was not well for the other Oklahoma team. Holy balls watch this!

I got some culture.

Saturday night, I went to a movie called Strange Culture at the Oklahoma Museum of Art (if you haven't gone to a movie here, I highly suggest it - mainly because you can drink before right in the bar downstairs!!) recounting the events surrounding the weirdness and sadness that is Steve Kurtz. Totally bizarre subject matter and use of documentary conventions. I wish I could recommend it, but I'm not sure I can. It did get me thinking, though. Until I started drinking later.

Jam Factor 5,000

Lacey's dad did it up at the Midway music fest thingy. It was pretty sweet. Lloyd rocked the drum kit while the Matthews clan and friends watched little kids in Superman t-shirts run around and bump into shit. Also, there were dogs and lots of bikes. A perfect Sunday afternoon activity.

The Jamminators! They're pretty sweet for jam band made of dads.

L's little brother, Luke. Look how happy he is.

Lacey doesn't have children (yet), so instead she settles for dognapping, then treating the hostage like a baby. Poor Willow.

What I really did this weekend

Um. So. MTV replayed the ENTIRE season of So You Think You Can Dance. Needless to say, when you called asking me to do stuff and I was all 'I'm really busy doing important cool stuff' I was really laying in bed crying to the choreography of Mia Michaels. It's my challenge.

But what about the music?

That's where you come in. I'm so tired of everything I've been listening to, I don't know what to do. I mean, it's all good since I've got such awesome taste, but I'm burning out. Help?

It's a vajungle out there.

Do you know what's worse than having your annual down there doctor appointment? Taking off work, sort of pruning your lady garden (more than I would ever consider for any boy - or girl, this is an equal opportunity blog), busting your ass on I-35 to get there, then arriving 10 minutes late because your work study took her sweet time to show up to cover you so that some nice woman says that you'll have to reschedule. I had mentally prepared for days. And all for naught. Ladies, I think you know what I'm talking about. And it's not even really about shoving stuff up there - I'm used to that. It's more about answering all of those G-D questions. And being weighed. Judgement city. Yeah lady? You're going to look at me like that? You're wearing zebra striped scrubs topped off with neon green Crocs with those little Croc accessorstupids (probably little OU footballs and such) stuck in them. And yes, nice lady nurse, you're right to judge. Reschedule this bitch! Mama needs a refill.

ZHMMM/Cringesday/Blove Date #1

For all of the loyal readers of Bee-Spot prior to this Blove business, I haven't forgotten you (mom and Grace). This is like 2 in 1 shampoo. A good idea in theory, but not really effective. Also, there are three parts.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Random Road Trip.

Obvs, I haven't had much time to load up on new music, but I did drive to Dallas and back this weekend, which afforded me much time to listen to what I have. Behold my ipod's top plays:

Sleeping Lessons - The Shins [via The Devil Has The Best Tuna]

Back In Your Head - Tegan and Sara [music is art]

Silver Lining - Rilo Kiley [the leather canary]

Little Boxes - Malvina Reynolds [MOKB]

Community - Mirah and the Spectratone International [song by toad]

Georgia - The 1900s [Planeta Pop]

Gotta Have You - The Weepies [The World Forgot]

Be Mine Everyone - Sam Champion [Stereogum]

Acceptable in the 80s - Calvin Harris [Hipster Runoff]

The Ride - Joan As Police Woman [The Late Greats]

Akron/Family - Gone Beyond [Aquarium Drunkard]

I have no idea if these songs are cool, played out, hated or loved by Pitchfork - I just simply like them.

Cringesday: Grace is going to eat delicious delicious sushi at Masa tomorrow night so I will embarrass her edition.

G's on the right. She's at her little bro's wedding scaring the bride with potential genetics.

Blove - Date #1:

Tonight, I was surprised to receive and then ignore a text message from a one Mr. Shain. Is said simply, dinner? Who am I to say no to that? He called and let me know he was on his way. Also, to let me know I should bring a camera to record our "date." When he picked me up, he actually came to the door and met my parents. He might have shaken hands with my dad, who, thank God, had pants on for once (he's a boxers past 5 kinda guy). Soon, we were on our way to The Cheesecake Factory all the way in The City! Talk about special. It was weird, though, especially when his boyfriend called and we had a threeway convo via speakerphone. Hmm. It got worse when, upon entering the restaurant, Shain asked if horizontal stripes were really the best look for me. Finally, after the waiter had recited the daily specials, one of which was salmon, Shain shamed him by asking him where said salmon was from. Date over! Actually, all was redeemed as we listened and sang along with Belle and Sebastian all the way home. Seriously, it doesn't take much to please me.

Appetizers: wine, fried macaroni and cheese, boobs.

Entree: Girly sandwich. I had a burger.

Dessert: Actually, Shain made me roll down the window and take this pic of a sign in my neighborhood. Then he said to post it. He might be too controlling to win.

Blog of Love: Round 1.

You all have been very patient. I appreciate that. I have a real job that sometimes (rarely or maybe just today) requires my full attention, also, I needed to eat a lot of Mexican food tonight (sexy, yes?). So, without further delay, I'll let Meg start (oh, p.s. we decided (actually, Meg did because she's the one that really watches the show) that each week there will be one "winner" a few close behinds and then three losers - except this week since Lozo/Lamo requested to be removed and I forgot to add a 16th person because I have trouble with numbers):

DMBMeg's pick for Day One of Blog of Love:

Winner: Jebus H Christ. [Golf clap]

I know, this may come as no shock to some of you (cough, cough, CrimeNotes), but Jebus was the ONLY one to email Blythe and I privately--and he included pictures of big doggies eating ice cream. Every self respecting ladies man knows the quickest way to a woman's heart is with animals. That being said, he also wrote a ridiculously hilarious post for the first time in 5 weeks (dude, the guy came to mother-fucking play). However moot the post is now after our Hawkeyes heartbreaking (no words) loss to Iowa State this weekend, it still made me laugh more than anything written anywhere else--and that my friends, is the key to dmbmeg's pants. (HINT)

Runner's Up for Group Date:

TK- TK kind of stole the show in the comments section of my post last week. If you follow the thread, it appears he attempted to go to a bar to meet up with Dan. It's always good to be reassured when I'm Quietly Judging you and Blog of Love bring the world together for peace, love, harmony, and two-hole sex in the bathroom.

East Village Idiot: He has the biggest technorati rating of them all, and he isn't afraid to use it. My traffic increased by approximately 20% on Thursday. He also tried to comfort me last night from my sports depression by telling me I could always join the Red Sox Nation with him. Um, thanks, but no thanks. For reals though, good luck against those Yankees. You guys are going to need it (except for Beckett. That guy is nasssty.)

Business or Leisure: Only cause I got his link wrong, and I feel kind of bad.

Notable Mention: Alex. He warmly accepted my request to take a ride on the Sooner Train. It's a bad year to be in the Big 10 (unless you go to Penn State)

Don't let the door hit you on the way out:

Flop: Your a jackass for correkting my grammer/speling. I rote that poste in 10 minuts. Give me a brake.

Mortarbored: Yeah, no matter how good the ratings are, I still have my pride. Plus, I also received emails threatening, "If he lasts longer than me I will cut your tits off." 'Nuff said.

So, there it is fellas. Show me what you got. Winners get a 2nd round bye for turning up the awesome this week.

Bee-Spot picks (her nose):

UPDATE: The VTK Kid is well on his way to winning this whole thing. I'm teling you. Bar is SET!

Winner: This week's gonna have to go to the VTK kid, Dan. Not only because he spent the weekend documenting his trip to my former home, Northampton, MA so I could live vicariously through him (that's what you were doing, right?), but he put up a pretty good front for the Bee-Spot side of things in Meg's comments section culminating in the offer/threat of a drinking throwdown. I might be in love. This week.

Runners Up:
1. Jebus for the pics, obvs. Puppies!


2. EVI - Dude! I have seriously been envying linkage for nearly a year now. My hits have gone through the roof! I'm up like 200%, which brings the total to 8. Pretty effing sweet. So, to answer the age old question, Technorati size does matter.

3. POW - Never ever did I think that this venerable blogger with maybe the best musical taste this side of Pitchfork (I kid! I mean about Pitchfork) would stop by our respective heaps. I'm still in shock. Also, I just noticed that he's got a picture of Teen Wolf up. Swoon.



Honorable mention: CrimeNotes for accurate predictions and self-fulfilling prophecies.
UPDATE: This just in. I mean this picture. Well done, Crimenotes. Well done.

We regret to inform you:
1. Copyranter - Yes, this was a long shot, but the others have come through, so the tiny remaining kernel of hope in my hollowed out soul thought just maybe, maybe... but no. See ya sucker! Ok, I'm still 10,000% behind you on capri pants. We'll always have capri pants.

2. Michael5k - Don't get me wrong. You're a great guy, plus you're supporting my Sooners and let me win things (two of my favorites). However, after a long talk with Mrs. 5k, it was decided to give you the boot.

On the bubble:
Cherry, that was a close one! You were totally on the short bus, I mean list. If you go MIA again, you've let Shain win. And no one wants that. Especially me. Plus, you have bitch tits. And I'm a bitch with tits. Too much in common to let you go so soon.

Pretty good showing boys, pretty good showing, but do you have what it takes to stick it out and win, what did we decide? Threesome? Nothing? The leftover amounts on the gift cards I got at Christmas? Well, in any case, bring it.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with the anniversary of this blog (but seriously, only because no one else is and I have to, it's contractual). SPOILER ALERT: this has the potential to turn into a sapfest. Either get out now or, yeah, just click the little x. But before you do, as this is my blog, I can use it for evil as well as good. In the words of Bobby Brown, it's my prerogative.

Last year was an extraordinarily bad year. I mean, mega shitteous. Coupla things: 1. tragically dumped by high school boyfriend of seven years/love of life (so I thought), 2. beloved dog Zealand stolen (and, unless you've raised a dog from a puppy, it's really hard to describe just how absolutely heartbreaking this was) as a result of my dumping, 3. sold myself out of gainful employment (long story), 4. moved back to Oklahoma from the remains of my seemingly happy life in Northampton, MA. I know people have been through worse, yes, but this was all so completely unexpected and expected. Anyway. Shitty. I started this blog while I was tinkering with spreadsheets at good ol' Yankee Candle as a way to kind of creatively get through this crappiness. A year later, it's strange to peruse the archives to see who I was and think about where I am now. Also, this is a good test to see if I know my months.

A year in the Blythe: a photographic and postographic retrospective.

September

I picked apples.

October

I went to a Halloween party in a barn. It was very New England. I do love Fall in New England. Something I already miss.

November

I met Augusten Borroughs.

December

I went home to the OK for Christmas. While Christmas is about family to most, to me it is about gifts. Too bad for me.

January

I decided to move home. Yup. That's all I'm gonna say about that. Oh, except that before I left, Party Cat (featured in November) got tape stuck in her ass.

(I suggest clicking to enlarge.)

February

I will be single forever! And ever! and ever!

March

I loved substitute teaching middle schoolers in Noble, OK. No, really. I actually did.

April

I got all nostalgic and shit.

May

Shain and I continue our tempestuous relationship.

June

I celebrated my the one year anniversary of my dumpage. Sometimes I can't believe I made it. Sometimes I can't believe I stayed with that kid for so long. Bygones! Also, L and I hung out a lot. This is when I starting thinking I would someday ask her to be my hetero life mate. This is also one of the best perks of moving home.

July

I got HPV(II).

August

I got old.

And now, well, looking back, it seems pretty mundane, but trust me. It was. Ok, seriously? It was a fucking awful year, but I think things are on the upswing. I really do. Well, as long as OU continues to dominate.

It's on!

Meg and I had an idea the other day. Scary, I know. Click HERE to find out more about Blog of Love. This shit is real, so Bee-Spot nominees better step up.





of

Cringesday: Middle School Melee

Hey there. Two contributions today. One from the venerable Von Trapper Keeper, Dan. And one from me. Because that's really why you're here. It's ok to admit. Ok, so YOUR TURN! Send it in! Seriously, I'm savings literally hundreds (of pennies) on therapy Pabst with this shit.

Fatbusters, the Herberg Middle School 6th grade nutrition quiz team, traveled 3 hours from Pittsfield, MA to Quincy Market in Boston in 1985 to compete in the State Finals. Named after the popular film Ghostbusters, the Fatbusters were well educated and competitive but faulty buzzers prevented them from claiming the crown. Team captain, Dan Nolan, who would later blog under the moniker of Von Trapper Keeper, performed admirably. Pictures with cardboard cutouts of the Boston Celtics and bags of candy from Faneuil Hall eased the agony of defeat and left the crew quite wound up for the long drive home.

Below, you will find a poem written as part of my eighth grade anthology created for Mrs. Knehans' English class. Not only does the poem suck (and is something I would write today), but the lamination and clip art are laughable. It was 1996. Didn't we have email and AOL by then?




This is pretty much what I looked like by the end of that fateful year. Check out those bangs! Hot! And, apparently, I wear my sunglasses at night just like any good child of the 80s. Nice American Eagle shirt B!

Um, yeah, so I'm kind of a big deal...

Sometimes, I check Sitemeter to make sure my mom's not reading as per our legal agreement. Guess what I learned when I logged on today? Bee-Spot has been nominated for a 2007 Okie Blog Award! I know, right? Obvs this is award winning blog (potentially/not). No? That's not what you were thinking? Oh. In any case, I'm truly surprised as I didn't threaten anyone to nominate me or anything. Not even my mom. I'm not sure how it happened (or why Mr. Shain didn't stop it because of his unbridled and unrivaled jealousy), but I'm relieved that I can now wear my "I'm kind of a big deal" t-shirt legitimately. And really, it's just an honor to be nominated because the bloggers of Oklahoma would have to be crazy not to vote for the The Lost Ogle, my favorite site re: the OKC.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Mix Tape Mania Edition.

So, d did such a fantastic job of introducing new music to the Bee-Spot family of reader(s) last week that I'm still catching up and haven't really scoured the blogs/my brain/usual suspects for what's out there this week. Instead, I bring you my most recent commute mix (none of these make any sense - I mean, seriously, there might be something wrong with me - thoughts?):

Children's Story - Slick Rick: Awesome!


Secret Heart - Feist: See, a fan from the beginning.

Sherry Fraser - Marcy Playground: There is just something about this album that makes me feel all warm and gooey like half baked browies inside.

Sometimes I Rhyme Slow - Nice & Smooth: This song reminds me of the real Zack Harrison, driving around Norman in his cigarette filled car with the windows down talking about, wait, what did we talk about?

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - The Postal Service: Yeah, PS is tool music. I get it. But I also like it.

Kanye West - All Falls Down: Because sometimes it does. But not if you're Kanye.

If I Ever Feel Better - Phoenix: I think I might - outlook good.

Novocaine For The Soul - Eels: Yes please.

Rise Up With Fists - Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins: I want to hate her because she's both awesome and was in Troop Beverly Hills, but instead I just drool.


Hello Operator - White Stripes: I'd still like to know what this one's about.

You Got Me - The Roots: For some reason, this song reminds me of C-tina, whom I've been thinking about as she's now so far away.

Shadow Boxer - Fiona Apple: Standard shower belting fare at my place.

Say It Ain't So - Weezer: Blue album. Goodness.

Seriously, it's like I'm stuck in ninth grade musically. Perhaps I advanced too quickly for my own good with this "indie" stuff. Animal Collective, Arcade Fire, Grizzly Bear, Stars, Art Brut? It's like I want a musical Big Mac.

It's gameday, bitches!

+

OU 51 Miami 13

÷

Right Now for Norman, OK (73072) Save Location [ English | Metric ]
Partly Cloudy 88°F Feels Like 98°F Updated Sep 8 02:45 p.m. CT Watch the Oklahoma City Forecast

=

*Yes, that is Mother Bee-Spot sporting a spectacular game day outfit featuring a fanny pack (ca. 1996) and warm up pants (ca. never ever). I was rendered speechless in the face of this, which, if you know me, is damn near impossible. Other highlights of the game included a downpour of rain, a downpour of my own sweat, trading incoherent text messages with Alex, no effing hot dogs at the concession stand after I stood in line for 20 minutes craving one covered in mustard that I would undoubtedly get all over my shirt because my boobs are ALWAYS in the way and I have had it with them, Mother Bee-Spot screaming so loudly she was receiving snarky looks and glares from our stadium neighbors, me finally bailing and making L pick me up and take me for a drink. Fun times. And now, I would like to watch Michigan trounce Oregon. Assfaces.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

but I'm also sad. Very sad. Madeleine L'Engle died yesterday. You know, the lady who wrote A Wrinke In Time? The first time (of a million) I read that book (with my dad) it totally blew my mind. How badly did I want to be like Meg Murray? With all of my little dorked out heart. Those books either confirmed my nerdom or drove me toward geekiness. After the Time Fantasy series, I moved on to reading about the Austins and then proceeded to read and reread each book enjoying their entertwined characters and themes. Cause I'm a super dork. My middle school band was named Nephilim (99.99% of you have no idea what I'm talking about, well in the context of L'Engle)! Not gonna lie, I was especially pleased to learn that she too attended Smith College. Sure, she had a totally weird Christian bent that I don't get, but eh. It's a sad day, but I'm so happy to have had her writing as part of my young life. Or now. Since I'll probably dust off the collection. Love!

In which my life feels like the title of a Wilson Phillips song

Got you with that one, didn't I?

Father Bee-Spot finally saw a specialist, has had the packing of death removed from his nostril and is resting comfortably on lots of meds. He's been worked up and over by an ENT, general practitioner and cardiologist. Blood work will be completed next week, but for now, he's ok. Thanks so much for your kind thoughts and words. Especially you, Shain. Today, I'm at home to make sure he's all right, take his blood pressure, contemplate a career change to nursing, etc.

Catch you on the flipside,

B

In which my life feels like the title of a Sufjan Stevens song

After trip number four to the emergency room this morning, I really thought we were all set in that department. Apparently not. I think we're headed back tonight - that's one m-effing stubborn nosebleed. In the meantime, I generally use this blog for good (with bad writing), but I just need a sec to vent. I know that hospitals are here to help and that they are imperfect, as everything is. I know that working in an ER must be a thankless job. I know that I have neither the intellectual capacity nor drive to be able to do such a thing and am so grateful that others can. That said, I am as enraged as much as someone like me (I'm still 97% cyborg) can be enraged. This morning, we were promised an ear nose and throat guy. We were promised an appointment in the clinic. We were promised that someone would actually look at the chart and at least think about what was happening and why. None of those things happened. We went home with another prescription for pain pills and no sign of cause or plan for relief, except to call back on Wednesday to see how he's doing. What the eff. In the meantime, Dad's got cotton shoved up literally to his eyeball. Not comfortable. Know what else isn't comfortable? Watching a room full of people wait in silence as their injuries throb, heads bleed, chests race, worries mount. And I couldn't do anything to help.

The problem with my life at the moment is that, I think, and I'm not sure, my frozen robot heart is slowly warming up. It's about time, but we'll see. I would consider this a good thing, an absolutely terrifying thing, but a good thing. However, with this unfreezing for good comes a new capacity for the opposite. I am a mess when I would normally be just fine. It's all I can do not to curl up in a ball on my floor and sob. And I just might. This is not that big of a deal. It's a nosebleed. But I am helpless. All I can do is read blood pressure and back talk the doctors when they give us the runaround only to feel bad about it later. I am so scared it's a symptom for something else. Of course, I am also on one meal a day since Friday and a total of about 10 hours of sleep since then.

In the meantime, I will walk my dog and continue my internet research on unstoppable nosebleeds.

blargh.

ZHMMM - Labor Day Edition (with special guest!)

Hey kids. d of Mishaps, Mayhem and Merriment has graciously agreed to be your fearless leader through this edition of ZHMMM. Thanks, yo! Enjoy.

For some strange reason, Blythe asked me to fill in for her today to give you guys this week’s ZHMMM. She will probably live to regret this day more than that one where she slept with that guy she didn’t really like because she was sorta drunk and he was available.

So, here’s some old stuff and some kinda new stuff for your listening pleasure.

More than Summer | Scissors for Lefty | Bruno
Turn it on and make sweet, sweaty love. Or bust out that fife that’s mildewing in the bottom of your closet and start marching, man. Whatever works.

Breakin’ Up | Rilo Kiley | Under the Blacklight
When you’re really happy about ditching that shitty person you dated last, crank this bad boy up!

Bitches in Tokyo | Stars | In Our Bedroom After the War
Don’t just play it once. Keep hitting that repeat button. ‘Til the neighbors knock on your door and tell you to turn it the fuck off already. You’ll never tire of it. Promise.

You! Me! Dancing! | Los Campesinos! | Sticking Fingers into Sockets
Do what the song says and bust a move brotha. (I know. I just said, ‘bust a move.’ I’m old and white, whaddya want?)

Call and Response | or, the whale | Light Poles and Pines
Because every single summer mix has to have a little harmonica and hand clapping on it. Otherwise, it just doesn’t feel like summer.

A-Punk | Vampire Weekend | EP
I know Blythe won’t shut up about these guys, but I feel that I must reiterate: buy this already. It’s some of the best music I’ve heard in a long, long time.

That Summer at Home I Had Become the Invisible Boy | The Twilight Sad | Fourteen Autumns, Fifteen Winters
If the Irish accent doesn’t get you, the sad, sad lyrics will. It could make the baby Jesus cry. And everyone knows he’s got a cold, iron bolt for a heart.

Disaster | The Besnard Lakes | The Besnard Lakes Are the Dark Horse
Do you like the Beach Boys? Are you sick and tired of everything they ever produced? Well, here you go then.

What We Do | Get Him Eat Him | Arms Down
It’s just so… earnest. If you don’t like it, your soul is dead.

My Madonna | Two Gallants | The Throes
A little Bob Dylan, a little Hank Williams, a little Zepplen. Play it loudly and sing along at the top of your lungs.

Liar and the Thief | Tin Cup Prophette | Liar and the Thief
Sultry.

Always on the Telehone| The Ladybug Transistor | Can’t Wait Another Day
70s-era pop. With a horn section!

Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe| Okkervil River | The Stage Names
Classic Okkervil. This album is getting a lot of bad press by some extremely stupid naysayers. Don’t listen to any of ‘em, ‘cause it’s gorgeous. I want to have Will Sheff’s babies.

Bones| Christians and Lions | More Songs for the Dreamsleepers and Very Awake
I’m obsessed with this band. And I can’t stop talking about it. Somebody slap me upside the head already. Or don’t. I’m happy with my neuroses.



Alright. That’s it for this guest installment of ZHMMM.

Let me have it.

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way Home From The Game; or My Dad Really Does Bleed Crimson

Um, so, yeah. 79 - 10, baby. Or as Lacey continued to remind us after her third (3) Long Island iced tea, "we beat them by 69!" Yes, yes we did. So badly that it actually was a bit boring. I mean, it was clearly going to be a blowout after the first quarter, and I desperately wanted to get my Miller Lite on, but we stuck it out till midway through the third quarter.

Last night, I asked Lacey to be my hetero life-mate. She said yes! We are in love.

The remnants of a tailgate party for midgets. I hope you're offended.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We went home after the game to regroup. I walked into my house to find a truly disturbing scene. A little exposition for you: Friday morning, my dad had this random nosebleed. Weird, but not super alarming. Well, it got worse and Friday night, my mom ended up taking him to the ER to get it checked out. They stuffed his nose full of cotton (rhino rocket?) and sent him packing. Flash forward to last night - I walk in, he's standing at the sink with blood pouring out of his face. I mean, special effects style. Fortunately, L's mom is a nurse practitioner and had been watching the game on TV with my mom, so she was able to assist my Dad and tell him to get his ass back to the ER pronto. Which he did. Mom says not to worry, go out, have a good time. I am conflicted, of course. I want to be a caring daughter, I want to go out, I want it not to be a big deal. Lacey's mom decides she wants to go with my mom to kind of be a go between for them. I'm off the hook (not that I want to be - the thing about my dad is that he wants no more attention than is absolutely necessary - I'm sure he already felt so vulnerable, I didn't want to add to that) for the time being. So, we go grab some dinner. This is there Lacey's LIIT comes in. She is on fire. Hi-Larious. I could not ask for a better HLM. Then we decide to head back to campus, to check out the celebratory scene. Basically, it's douches in popped collars drunk off Bud Light and sorostisluts teetering about on high heels with red beads adorning their fakebake necks. Blech. We head to The Deli and listen to a band for a bit. I decide to check in with my mom. She calmly informs me that Dad has to be transported to OKC for an emergency procedure to cauterize the busted blood vessel. Ok. Oh, and I'm driving them. Thankfully, I'd taken it easy, so I was in good shape. But I had to round up my posse and tell them the news. Lacey and co immediately tabbed out and headed home with me. She cleaned out our sink. We packed him a bag with socks and sudoku. We walked my dog to 7-Eleven for cigarettes and she didn't judge. Finally, I got the word Mom was on the way. I downed two Diet Cokes and steeled myself, but it was harder than I thought. I've never seen either parent express any sort of vulnerability and it totally shook me to see my dad in sweatpants, covered in his own blood, half passed out in the front seat due to the morphine they'd given him because they kept having to pack, unpack then repack his nose - I mean ALL the way up there, behind his sinuses. Anyway, I carefully drove them up to the city and he groaned at every bump. It was awful. We made it there by 3 where the admitting nurse had no idea we were there to see an ENT or have this procedure. My head almost exploded. I am generally strangely calm under this kind of pressure, so I asked my mom for the number to the Norman ER and she ended up finding out that no one had really told them what was going on. Great. They had to go through everything again to readmit him. Finally, some doctor comes to see him and tells him that they're not taking the chance of unplugging his nose since the bleeding had been stopped for about 6 hours at that point. Come back on Monday. WTF!!! By this point, the nose thing wasn't bother Dad as much as the blinding headache he'd sustained as a result of the constant poking, prodding and pressure. His pain looked like at least an 8, 8.5. In Norman, they'd given him some Lortab or some crap, but we all know that does nothing. So, we begged the doctor for something stronger. He finally relented and we even got him to give us a pill right there. So, we leave, I drive them home, put both parents to bed as they are beyond exhausted, fill the prescription and finally get to bed about 6am. Only to be awoken at 7 by Dad bumping around trying to find his pills and get settled into a chair in the living room because he can't really be recumbent. I gave him his pills, set him up with some Vitamin Water, a fan, movie, and blanket and tried to get back to sleep. No such luck. My parents are both young and healthy. They're 50. 50's the new 30! I know that this little episode isn't really an indicator of something more serious in his case, but it has definitely shaken me more than I'd thought. Damn. Why am I writing about this on a blog? I don't really know. Maybe because next time you're an ass to one of your parents or don't call them back or roll your eyes, etc, remember that they're not going to be around forever. Also, Lacey is the best hetero life-mate around. Thanks to everyone for dealing with me dealing with this.

GO OU!