Now I have something a little too exciting to report. A little bit ago I was waiting for the little man’s school bus to return, sitting on the front porch as I often do. Our street is a fairly quiet one. So I thought it highly unusual when a caravan of five vehicles turned up

on my block, slowing down to park one right after the other in front of my house. It was not unlike the partygoers in Swingers (a bunch of guys who follow each other, going from party to party in L.A., but refuse to carpool). But unlike Vince Vaughn and friends, these guys didn’t look money. They looked scary…emerging from their vehicles fully armed, wielding some very big guns. And instead of swank suits, baby, they were outfitted with bulletproof vests. I stared at them, my jaw hanging open, as they shouted commands at one another and slunk their way up the street, with a canine unit in tow. Not two minutes later the school bus pulled up, plowing through this pocket of surreality. I went into fierce mama bear mode, stormed the bus, informed the driver of the situation (thankfully there weren’t any other kids aboard, ours is the last stop), and quickly ushered my cub into the house. But not before casting a wary glance up the block just in time to catch sight of a big white guy with his hands behind his head (I know all of our immediate neighbors, as in those whose properties surround ours, but that one is just too far over). Once safely inside I called Zophia, relating this info and including a tidbit about a fire up the block over the weekend, in that same general area. She’s helpfully suggested that we might have a meth lab in our midst. And just when my adrenaline rush was subsiding. Gee, thanks.

Nothing too exciting to report about the weekend. No highest highs or lowest lows, just a few mildly disappointing disappointment(s):

• I didn’t get to see The Thermals on Saturday. Sure, it was an early evening all ages show. But I don’t think the little man is ready for that just yet. I can’t imagine him leaving ear plugs in his ears, let alone letting me put said ear plugs in.
• As I wasn’t able to go to the show, I gave myself a consolation prize. The lad and I went to IKEA instead. It was only my second visit there (since their opening last summer) and the first with the little man. He did surprisingly well, walking through the store at my side, looking at the brightly colored bits and baubles. After I made my purchases he was patient as we left to stow them in the car…before heading back inside to play in the kids’ area for a bit (the whole thing made me somewhat nervous, even though they have a pretty good system - you sign your kid in, you each get a stamp with the same number on it, and the parent/guardian who signed the kid in must be the one to sign them out). Unlike the other parents who ditched and dashed, I hovered nearby, watching him play the entire time through a plate glass window. Overall, a good trip for us both. But when I got home I realized I’d bought two flat bedsheets, and no fitted ones. Because I am S-M-R-T smart. I guess I’ll have to go back, but maybe a weekday morning, while the lad is at school. Don’t want to push my luck.
• Every time I allow myself to entertain the thought “hey, I might be pregnant this time” mother nature intervenes instantly, unleashing her wrath with the imminent arrival of Aunt Flo. And thus it was yesterday morning. So I whined to the husband, “ugh, we’re going to have to try again.” His reaction? “Oh, darn”.

Should be a moderately interesting week. Today my wide angle lens is due to arrive at long last. Tomorrow we may go see The Incredibles again, at the dollar theater. And Thursday morning we’re due back at the hospital, to go over the results of the little man’s neuropsych assessment. I suspect I’ll have trouble sleeping Wednesday night. Well, more so than usual.
Bonus: Receptionista is making me want to get new ear baubles in a bad way. And I’ve realized that I haven’t had my lobes stretched since well before the little man was born. Nor have my current baubles been out in that time.

The spectacular Stephen Chow is at it again. Just yesterday I found out about Kung Fu Hustle, his latest comedy/action effort.

The use of “Ballroom Blitz” (in the American trailer, the original, by the band Sweet) is absolutely brilliant. And the action director was Yuen Woo-ping, who also choreographed the fight sequences for the Kill Bill and Matrix movies (among dozens of others). Stateside we’ll be seeing it on the big screens March 18th. Last night I was talking to a friend about other movie news. There’s a whole slew of films coming out this year that I’d like to see (Jonathan has a decent roundup here). I’m not terribly excited about the upcoming Fantastic Four flick, but apparently a previous attempt had been made about a decade ago, and never released. My friend managed to see a copy, either at a comic book con or at the comic book store he used to work at. Sounds like it was a good thing it never saw the light of day. I just had to re-post the below trivia tidbit from imdb (the last line is the kicker):

The movie contains one of the all-time great “bad movie” moments. Doctor Doom’s henchmen come to kidnap Alicia Masters. They sneak up behind her and do the standard “chloroform rag over the mouth” bit to render her unconscious. And we get the standard point-of-view shot from her, seeing the bottom half of the screen covered by the rag and then the rest of the image going from clear to fuzzy to black, as to show us what she is seeing as it happens. Pretty standard for numerous low-budget action movies. One problem though. The character of Alicia Masters is completely, totally, and in all ways, blind.

Stellar. That’s the single biggest continuity error I have ever come across. Though I do recall seeing Ice Pirates with my Dad when I was a kid, and during one futuristic spaceship sequence we could suddenly see a current era parking lot in one edge of the frame, complete with parked cars. In higher quality film news, we’re very excited about the upcoming Wallace & Gromit full length, which I’ve previously mentioned. But now there’s a new trailer/featurette online…which the little man insists upon watching over and over and over again.
Bonus: It’s strange to wake up and discover I strongly desire something I didn’t even have a name for before I went to bed. Via Knitting in Public, I give you over thirty versions of the Clapotis. I wish one of them was mine.

Oddly enough, some of my plans of yesterday seem to be panning out. First, my efforts to keep the little man away from the computer(s) worked out. After he came home from school we headed to Lookout Ridge, where he happily cavorted about for two hours. When we returned home we encountered a neighbor boy, so we had another hour or two of activity outside, sledding down the hill in our backyard (at long last the snow has been compacted enough, and has attained the right texture for proper play). It may have been a little too much, though. He was overtired last night, woke up with bad dreams, and today just wants to layabout. I’ll have to keep in mind, moderation is the key. As for the other plan, grandma greenlighted it, so the husband and I have booked the Ecovista room for his birthday next month. While poking around to see what all is happening in Madison I found something out. David Sedaris will be on tour in the Spring. The closest he’ll come to Minneapolis happens to be Madison. And on only two of his tour dates will Sarah Vowell be accompanying him. One of them happens to be, you guessed it, the Madison date, on April 16th. I haven’t been to Madison in, oh, six or seven years. But now I’m contemplating two trips in 2005. Go figure. Also, Sassy suggested a visit to the infamous House on the Rock. I can’t believe I’d forgotten about it. All these years I’ve known about it, and have never gotten a chance to check it out (even after reading Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, like, a few times over). Sadly it’s closed until March, but it wouldn’t be the husband’s sort of thing anyhow. Maybe if I do get back there for Sedaris, I could swing by. Hmmm.
Bonus: Now for a little weekend roundup. The Thermals will be gracing the Triple Rock’s stage tomorrow, and The Incredibles makes a move over to my favorite second-run theater. Also, the Oxboro Library is hosting a free event tomorrow afternoon…a performance by the Manduhai Family Circus, known for their skills in oriental foot and hand juggling, hula hooping, and hand balancing. Going anywhere, however, is contingent upon getting our car back from the shop today. I guess we could still take the bus down to some winter carnival events, though.
Plus: Normally I’m not one to point out advertising, but occasionally I come across something worth looking at. VW has taken Gene Kelly’s dance number from “Singing in the Rain” and digitally, uh, updated it. Ah, “Breakdancin’ In The Rain” (via Coudal).

Last night I made an attempt to get the little man away from the computer, and his repeated, obsessive Toy Story viewings. After one of my suggestions he looked at me, dead serious, and said:

“We can’t do something fun…[pause]…it’s too dangerous.”

Uh-huh. That’s when I turned off each of the computers. For a few hours anyway. Speaking of getting away from computers, and getting away, in general…my wanderlust is the worst it’s been in ages. Realistically we can’t spend much time or money on a big trip, so the husband suggested a compromise. A weekend away, somewhere within driving range. We then found, simultaneously (he on his computer, me on mine) the Arbor House. A vegan-friendly B&B in Madison, Wisconsin, just a four hour drive from home. And in the vicinity of the B&B there are five movie theaters, a number of vegan-friendly restaurants (including one all-vegan place), and an arboretum. Now we just need the go-ahead from the little man’s grandmother, and it looks like we’ll be able to celebrate the husband’s 30th birthday in style.
Bonus: Brace yourself, for this stomach-churning, live action Strongbad.
Plus: I know, you’re prolly all sick of my current obsession, but you can now find Flickr photos by color and brightness (via Kottke).
And: This post’s title was inspired by Cherie’s “golden rules for a peaceful existence” - a list I should really print off and stick on my wall. And I don’t usually do that sort of thing.

It was a surprisingly productive morning. Conferred with the little man’s school nurse, reassuring her that the ringworm-type rash (yay) on his neck isn’t contagious. According to the doctor, anyhow, who suggested he wear turtlenecks to school for the rest of the week, just to put the nurse at ease. Life is so goofy sometimes. Then I called B&H, for the third time in two weeks, to find out where the hell my wide angle lens is. But this time I demanded resolution. I told ‘em they either send me a brand new one right away (I’d ordered a used lens that they seem to have misplaced, if it ever existed in the first place) or I wanted a damned refund. We reached a compromise. For an extra $20 they’d send me the new one, shipping out today (to arrive in three business days). And they apologized. Works for me. Then it was off to run errands, including the retrieval of the new Low release, that came out just yesterday. Sure, I was tempted to get it from iTunes. And I do listen to most of my music in mp3 format (or ogg, if the husband has done the ripping). But I’m a little old-fashioned. I still like to have the liner notes (no offense Lane), and the ability to take CDs downstairs, to listen to while I’m doing my halfassed Suzy Homemaker impersonation. Which I carried on this morning, by making stops at the library, post office, hardware store, grocery store, and the drug store. What a good little wifey I am (sometimes). Again, life is so goofy sometimes.
Bonus: Speaking of The Great Destroyer…Hollis rulez.
Plus: Not the first Flickr coinkydink, but a pretty spectacular one.
And: Listening to This American Life’s episode “Other People’s Mail” made me think of Mr. Barrett Chase. But at least St. Paul’s Mail Recovery Center (one of only three in the country) has remained open. Sigh.

Last night my faithful old monitor died in my sleep (after I’d gone to bed, while the husband was setting up my brand spanking new computer). After ten years of service the sad little 14″ sucker was ready to be retired anyhow. But the only temporary replacement in the house was the husband’s recently retired monitor that had gone on the fritz. Thankfully we hadn’t recycled it yet, and it seems to be working all right (good thing, too, as I had a client meeting in-house this morning). Hopefully it will hold up until the new one arrives. Just yesterday I was reading about CEO Balaji Krishnamurthy, and his policy of rewarding rank-and-file employees first, before moving up the management chain. This made me want to purchase a new monitor from Planar Systems. But it seems they only make LCD monitors, which the husband claims are for shite. So instead I’m going with the old CRT style, but a nice 17″ one (the husband’s recently purchased model is 19″, but my twee little desk isn’t large enough to hold something that mammoth). Shopping for computer goodies is a dangerous business, as it makes me want more and more and more. My old PC was a hodge-podge of the husband’s cast-off parts. For the first time since 1994 I have a blazingly fast new machine, built from the latest and greatest bits, and it’s all packed into a cute new case to boot. And now I want to do more with it. I’m excited by what the crazy kids are doing these days, what with the audioblogging, podcasting, and the vlogging. And sure, I’d love to have morning jammie-clad iChats with Starfire. But now that I have a new PC with new monitor on the way, and an old reliable G3 Powerbook, I don’t see too many more toys on the horizon (or in the budget). Though I am still itching to get some fancy doohickeys (adapters, lenses, filters) for my digital SLR, to further my 5-minute crush with the flickr-ing.

I was ill-prepared for our hospital visit, even though it’s been scheduled for six weeks, and I’ve spent the last sixteen months trying to get us there. So this morning found us racing out of the house while neglecting to roll the trash to the curb and I couldn’t find any of the three books I’m in the middle of reading and I foolishly decided against bringing my laptop along and the husband fell asleep next to me in the waiting room so I had no choice but to peruse the shiny-happy-people parenting magazines that, no matter how much I scorn them, always manage to make me feel inadequate somehow. Deep breath. But the little man, he was great. He waltzed into the psychological services office, happily taking stock of their toy selection. When he was introduced to Julie, who would be handling his neuropsych assessment, he greeted her in a friendly manner and willingly walked into her office, while the husband and I headed to the Family Resource Room to wait. Halfway through the little man came out for a snack break, but went right back in afterwards. The session was scheduled for three to four hours, length determined by the subject’s cooperativeness. After just under three hours they emerged. Julie announced that the little man had done a great job, but imparted little more information than that. We’ll be going back for part two next week. And for part three some time later, while the little man is at school, to go over reports and recommendations. Slow and steady wins the race. Or something.

This evening the lovely ladies converged on my house for the first time in ages. The three of us hadn’t gotten together since our impromptu pumpkin-carving party. In October. Yeah. But we do like to exchange gifts after the holidays, to drag it out as long as possible. And we scored some sweet swag. From Haudrey, the adorable “Olivia Sleepover Kit” - haven’t decided whether or not I’ll share with the little man, though we have been on an Olivia kick lately (Lane & Maxwell too). From Zophia, Kung Fu placemats & coasters and Asian Cult Cinema. And the little man, whoa. Last schoolyear he fell in love with the book, Go Away, Big Green Monster, which I’ve since purchased. But at school they also had this neat hand puppet to go with it. And now we’ve got it too. Yay! Afterwards we went on to dinner at Babani’s. Being seated there reminded Zophia of a recent lunch outing, with some co-workers. When asked how many were in her party she held up four fingers in reply. Unfortunately she was wearing a mitten at the time (sounds like something I would have done). Our gang of four had a lovely dinner, despite one member repeatedly sliding off of his booth seat and squirming around on the floor. And a miscommunication with the waitress that garnered me more than twice the amount of Niskena and Kurdish Bread than I’d intended, but hey, leftovers. It was just nice to get out. While talking, you know, having a conversation, face to face, with other non-children people (it’s such a rarity for me these days) Haudrey mentioned that she, too, thought that one photo of me, in the “history of my hair” gallery, looked just like the little man, wearing a wig. I have to admit I do see the resemblance between little me and little man, but not so much between big me and bigger little man. Only time will tell. Or maybe he should start wearing a wig now.
Bonus: Post-elections sentiment that I’m most embarrassed to admit I agree with: I’m like a born-again apathetic!
Plus: In a truth is as strange as fiction twist, read “The Loneliest Mystery of the Deep” - an incredibly depressing news story about a whale, that happens to match the plot of a Star Trek movie.
And: Crap. The Gates installation will only be up in Central Park for 16 days, between February 12th - 28th. NYC trip, anyone?

Last night I was cutting bits out of an old copy of Print Magazine, to make a collage/thank you card, when one photo in particular caught my eye. I paused to read the snippet associated with it, which led me to the “Canned” project of an architectural firm in Japan:

Over one thousand types of new drinks are launched on to the market each year in Japan. Only a handful make it through to the next season without being pulled from the shelves never to be seen again.

These web pages catch the classic cans and the ones that should have got away. Banana Cola anyone? anyone? anyone?

Shimi Jimi, Nachan and Gomen ne are my favorites. Too bad they’ve stopped adding to their archives. Also last night, I was digging around in a drawer for art supplies when I came across an old pack of handmade cards. They were made by Englishwoman Alison Hullyer, whose work can be seen here. I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her sketchbooks. And from flickr, I came across the work of Swedish illustrator Camillle Engman. Beautiful stuff, that.