From the creators of South Park comes Team America: World Police, due for release in the U.S. on October 15th.

Marionette superheroes fight to end terrorism and put tired celebrities out of their misery.

After my late night, and extremely early morning, my main reaction to watching the trailer was a groggy “what the huh?” - I don’t get it, but I’m not sure that I want to. Also on the superhero tip, DOOM & Madlib’s Madvillain video All Caps is absolutely brilliant (this may be old news to some, but we are without cable). And on the supernatural tip, the teaser for The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, brief though it may be, has left me giddy with anticipation. I’ll try not to panic. It is less than a year away from release, after all.

Pshaw to those naysayers who think St. Paul doesn’t have it going on. Last night I felt like I stumbled upon my city’s best kept secret (though I’m pretty sure it made the A List). It was the perfect evening for a pretty patio show, cool and breezy, beneath a nearly full moon (great for blurry band photos). And this particular patio was practically in my backyard. It took all of three minutes to get to the show. I arrived in time to catch the opening band, Mr. 1986, an instrumental space rock opera outfit from Nebraska. They were enjoyable enough but I found my mind wandering more than once, with no vocals to anchor me in the here and now (or the there and then). I looked around me, at the assembled hipsters, and started wondering just how the strategically scruffy look had become the new black. Afterwards I wandered around a bit, while waiting for my friend’s band to play, finally getting a good look at the amazing exhibit 9 Months in America, an Ethnocentric Tour by Wing Young Huie. But during their set I was forced to contemplate…the awkwardness of standing in close proximity to a person…who one has engaged in various sexual acts with (some time ago, mind you) without acknowledging one another in any way whatsoever. These things happen. Thankfully the music grabbed my attention 99% of the time. I considered going home after Signal’s set, but stuck around to see Askeleton…partially to see what all the fuss was about, but also with the hope that Minneapolitans Chuckumentary, Lorika and perhaps Spacewaitress would turn up. Alas, they must have had other plans. Probably on the other side of the river.

This first week of summer vacation has been a busy one for the little man and I, but not in a particularly stressful way. I’m attempting to strike a balance between those things I want to do, and those I think I should do. It’s a work in progress, naturally, but I think I’m getting the hang of it. We kicked things off Monday afternoon by enjoying a leisurely ride down the Mississippi and visiting the Harriet Island playground afterwards.

Tuesday the little man had an afternoon visit with his paternal Grandparents and awesome Auntie D, which allowed me to fly solo for my inaugral visit to…IKEA. And boy howdy, am I ever glad I went alone. I saw other mothers dragging their screaming wee ones through the crowded store, and trying to keep them calm while waiting in the ridiculously long checkout lines. Still, I am glad I made the trek. I picked up a kickass dollhouse for the little man’s upcoming birthday, and I have my eye on a nice big boy bed for him as well (as he’s now head-to-toe in his teeny toddler bed). The whole ordeal lasted several hours, but I made up for the lost time by working through the night on freelance projects.

Wednesday was a quieter day, spent playing with Legos and enjoying some much-needed thundershowers. And chipping away at the unsexy stuff, like the nearly insurmountable amount of housework that had gone undone, or under-done, for so long. Took care of some laundry, washed some dishes, brushed the cats, swept, made a few decent meals, but there is still so much more to do.

Instead of tackling any of that on Thursday, however, we met up with an old friend of mine, and her kids, for the free Thursday morning movie at Block E. Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas was better than I’d expected (expectations were low, despite Ebert’s glowing review). It was action-packed and visually interesting…and, well, free. The rest of the day I concentrated on carpal tunnel-inducing client work, with breaks for meals and playground visits. Today hasn’t been terribly productive, thus far. It’s nearly noon and I’m still in my pajamas, wondering where the morning’s gone and what the remainder of the day will have in store for us. Possibilities include a picnic lunch at the playground, and visiting various museums. This evening a friend’s band is playing at one, Minnesota Museum of American Art, a show I’d like to catch as much for the venue as the lineup. Overall the outlook for those things I should do, like housework, is not so good. But for the moment, that seems fair and balanced to me.

From a list I’m subscribed to:

In the New Republic, earlier this month, there was a tin-hat story claiming Pakistan intelligence officers said the US was pressuring Pakistan to produce a high-level Al Qaeda operative “on July 27, 28, or 29″ in order to distract from the Democratic National Convention.

Today, on CNN:

He was captured “a few days back”, but they wanted to make sure of his identity before announcing it.

Just in time for the DNC. Coincidence? Doubtful. And Daily Kos agrees, apparently. Some interesting comments over there.

For the past few days a thought occurs to me while in the shower. I recall, briefly, something I’ve been intending to look up online. But by the time I’ve returned to my desk I will, invariably, have forgotten what it was.

Ah, the husband…the poor guy is still recovering from a particularly rough night. His evening started out well enough. He left home early, long before his shift started, to enjoy a leisurely meal with an old friend. But eventually it was time to go to his first job of the evening. The crapass one he’s been enduring for two years, for the kickass benefits (health insurance coverage for the whole family, no premiums, no copayments). He doesn’t have quite enough seniority, yet, to entirely escape the shit work. Thus he and a co-worker were tasked with a thankless chore…re-wrapping leaky or damaged packages…some of which, apparently, contained dead cats and hardcore pornography DVDs. Thankfully the husband was responsible for the latter, and those packages weren’t leaking, but still.

Monday randomista. I’m already up to my eyeballs in freelance work, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the weekend, what with its extra-fine weather. Yesterday was all brunches and bbqs with friends, old and newish. And one feature film in two parts…the biggest, baddest B-movie ever made. I must say, I am officially a Kill Bill convert. And I’m glad I didn’t watch the first volume until after the second was released. Waiting out that long of an intermission would have driven me crazy(ier). In other movie news, trailers are online for Howl’s Moving Castle, from Studio Ghibli. No official word yet on when it will be released stateside. And lastly, the husband’s been fiddling around with the open source blogging tool, Blosxom. Before long I’ll be joining other bloggers in the 21st century. My hand coded pages will be a thing of the past, replaced by revamped entries, replete with individual IDs (permalinks at last!), comments and more. We’ve been testing (”we” being the husband, mostly) and hope to switch over some time this week. Hopefully it won’t be buggy, but I’d like to think that someone would let me know if it is. Like the time that Dave and I were walking into work and my dress had, apparently, gotten hiked up and tangled in my backpack…such that I was strolling down a busy street, during rush hour, for at least a couple of blocks, with my ass totally hanging out. But wait, I’m the one who noticed that. Gee, thanks for nothing Dave. So please, loyal readers, don’t let my blog go a few blocks with its ass hanging out. Thank you very much.

Today was a better day. The weather was fair. The husband mowed the lawn (thank you, darling). And the little man and I walked into a win-win situation…enjoying the effervescence of our friend Delia Jane, combined with the 10th Annual Art Car Parade. Our timing was perfect. We arrived on the scene early enough to stroll past the cars as they lined up…but not so late that we’d miss out on scoring a kickass viewing spot. As much as I love St. Paul, it’s events like these that make me miss being an Uptown girl. I was completely at ease blending into this crowd of mellow mamas, laid-back kids and other art-friendly folks. And I captured enough cars to warrant the creation of a new gallery, though I wasn’t quick enough on the draw to snap off a decent shot of the couchmobile…I was too enamored of the snazzy spinning action.

It was an officially sanctioned Emotional Rollercoaster Week^TM around these parts, but I must have missed the memo. I might have tried to take a vacation from myself, had I known. It all started last weekend, with the 2004 Mama Gathering being held in Minneapolis…something I’d been looking forward to a great deal, going so far as to give a quick interview, via phone, for an article about it in the Minnesota Women’s Press. My rambling was whittled down, naturally and necessarily, but I’m hoping I didn’t sound like too much of a twit. They described the event as:

“the biggest, baddest, most subversive parenting conference and party of the year,” the Mama Gathering is a weekend of workshops, socializing and networking that caters to mamas “pierced or pinstriped, geeky or glam.”

While the Strib touted “Unconventional Mamas Hold Their Own Convention“, both of which were right on. But somehow I managed to feel like a misfit among misfits. There’s that issue with the malfunctioning filter between my brain and my mouth, a problem exacerbated by exhaustion and nervousness. This contributed to the awkwardness of not-quite-connecting with mamas I’d thought I would have everything in common with. Thankfully I happened upon a few others who instantly felt like old friends, on top of spending a fair amount of time with one who actually was.

I suspect my body’s havoc-wreaking hormonal hell was responsible for much of the feelings of disconnectedness, and for the past week’s crying jags and complete lack of focus and consuming need for cuddle-time and increased consumption of vegan s’mores. Speaking of lack of focus, today was my last at the part-time job. I was taken out to lunch and repeatedly told how much I will be missed (along with my signature giggle) which is always nice to hear. I tried not to rub it in, that I’ll be goofing off for the rest of the summer with my kid, having fun in the sun while wearing flip flops. I don’t think I was successful. Today also marked the one year anniversary of the husband’s creepyass cornea transplant. He celebrated by having the remaining stitches ripped out of his eyeball. The end.

Today was the day.
Open casket.
Lost my shit more than once.
The worst part?
Besides seeing his mother and sister in so much pain…besides seeing all the photos of Josh, just as I remember him…and aside from it feeling like some bizarro world high school reunion…the hardest part was looking on, helplessly, uselessly, as old friends carried the casket of one of their best friends.