Still recovering from the weekend. Saturday was idyllic. Sunday was pure hell. Woke up with another damned migraine and spent the entire day flat on my back in a dark room. And I had plans. Plans within plans. All for naught. Still feeling the lingering effects of it - exhaustion (yes, even though I was just lying down all day pain will wear a person out), tenderness, achiness and sensitivity to light, sound and smells. Oh so much fun to be me. But it’d better not happen again next weekend. Maria, who showed us such a good time in the Bay Area, will be here for a few days. Friday night there’s a pirate party to attend, and Sunday morning a brunch thingie. And on Saturday…Stories with Sara, at the Walker Art Center. Sara being Sara Varon, comic book artist extraordinaire. Should be fun. Also fun and family-friendly…I’d long heard rumors of a cool Japanese exhibit coming to the Minnesota Children’s Museum. Rumor is becoming a reality. Jump to Japan opens September 24th, complete with the cat bus and a giant stuffed Totoro. Not sure who will be more excited, the little man or myself.
Bonus: “…double-breasted jackets make short men look like small tough meaty boxes”
Plus: Maybe it was the wicked witch?

Some Saturday morning randomness.
I’ve been bewitched by our new 12.5″ non-stick pan. This morning’s blueberry pancakes turned out perfectly, and, if I do say so myself, were the best pancakes I have ever made (recipe here).

For some time now I’ve been looking forward to the new Terry Gilliam movie, The Brothers Grimm, which opened yesterday…but it’s been receiving such gawd-awful reviews. I’m sure I’ll still see it, but I may not be in as big a hurry to. Though it’s been ages since I’ve seen a movie at the theater. Well, one without the little man, at any rate.

When I ask the husband a question, often from the next room over, and do not hear him respond immediately I will repeat myself, slowly and angrily, as though he’s hard of hearing and a non-native English speaker. It usually turns out that he has already responded, but I just didn’t pick up on the soft sounds of his weak kitten-like voice.

On the other end of the spectrum, I can clearly hear the little man’s Play-a-Sound Star Wars book from any room in the house, and though I’ve long had a soft spot for R2-D2, I’ve grown weary of his blipping and beeping. What the hell was I thinking when I sanctioned that purchase?

Bonus: Some email announcement lists are actually useful. Just found out that Andrew Bird (*swoon*) is coming back to town Friday, September 23rd, at the Cedar Cultural Center. I am so there.
Plus: A random pet peeve: Pants that look better from the front than the back, or vice versa. I want it both ways!

It could be said that the husband and I are not very skilled at prioritizing tasks. For instance, today is trash day. The husband could have cleared out our overflowing wastebaskets and rolled the big trash bin to the curb. Instead he ripped my recently obtained CDs (from Amoeba Records) and loaded up the iPod, so I would have something new to listen to today, in the car and at work. Can I complain? Yes. Too much? Well, no.
Bonus: Hillary has outdone herself. This time she has created a fleece version of His Noodly Appendage, the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Another fabulous photo of it is here. This fleeceity is absolutely divine.
Plus: Been meaning to mention, our very own big Dave has now contributed to his second O’Reilly book, and this one has a cover now and everything (his first book had some sort of monkey on the cover, this time it’s a hawk of some sort).
And: Craziness. Last weekend Spacewaitress rented a taxi and drove people from Point A to Point B. She barely broke even, but it seemed to be an interesting experience at least.
And another thing: 7-how-7 on belated spring cleaning. I can relate.

Woke up remembering bits and pieces of strange dreams. Like, we’d gone up to Montreal to see The Arcade Fire play and it was a house show. But rather than playing in the house they were playing, like, on the front lawn or something…and there was nowhere to stand really so we had to crouch in a cold snowbank on the sidewalk in the dark. And some jerk behind me kept talking loudly during their set and it turned out to be William Shatner (originally of Montreal) and then he got into a wrestling match with Lederhosen Lucil. And then Win Butler tried to take my bendable Hulk action figure that I was clutching ever so tightly (the one that my friend Jeff gave me when I was 15, but has now been claimed by the little man). But then a parade started to go by, up the block, with legions upon legions of baton twirlers only they were twirling flaming sparklers. And then I asked someone if there was anywhere to get vegan pancakes in town. And then I woke up. Weird.
Bonus: An offhand remark by La Coquette has had me craving apricot-filled beignets all week (not to mention lounging in the French countryside, though sans poodles). I sent the husband a recipe and suggested that he might try to find a way to veganize it. Outlook not so good.
Plus: It is time for Chuck to rejoin the Land of the Working Stiffs. He specializes in web/blog/vlog/video stuff. If anyone’s got any leads, let him know.
And: Haven’t had any spare time to write about our trip, so, for now, here’s a smattering of photos (for those of you who haven’t already seen them all on flickr).

Sorry for the silence. Still here, but going all ostrich-like…as I become increasingly stressed and overwhelmed.

Some random thoughts before the big trip recap (which I plan to post in bite-sized chunks, just as I am doing with my trip photos on flickr).

• I came across a sample of Aveda “dual nature” face lotion. I put some on. It smells like pickles. And not in a good way.
• Upon entering rush hour traffic this morning, for the first time in over a week, my right eye started twitching.
• By now I should know better than to bother with straightening my hair…when there is precipitation of any sort outside. Resistance is futile.

Bonus: Was already looking forward to the Thumbsucker movie, as I read and enjoyed the book a while back, but I just found out there will be a couple of previously unreleased Elliott Smith songs on the soundtrack. Neat, but sorta bittersweet, of course.

But still on left coast time. Today should be pretty brutal…as the little man goes back to school, and I go back to work. And we’re already running late this morning. Doh. More soon.

There are a million and one things that could go wrong, and believe me, I pondered a great many of them in the wee small hours of the morning, but it’s go time. And that’s that. The little man’s inaugral flight will be happening in just a few hours. And heck, if the Discovery can land safely in California, so can we. See yawl in a week.

I love a stormy night. Except when I’m trying to, you know, sleep. At 3:30am this morning a Zeus-style thunderclap woke me up. I jumped out of bed, with my adrenaline racing, before I realized what was up. Took me a while to calm down, but eventually I fell back to sleep. And who needs an alarm clock when you’ve got tornado sirens? Those suckers started blaring around 6am. You’d think that would rouse me, but I lingered in bed, listening to the storm…after the sirens had died down. Last night I must have spent another 11 or 12 hours in bed, actually. Slept much of the weekend away, and when I was awake I was quiet and still, sitting or lying down in a dark room. And yet, I am on day eight of this damned migraine. Friday’s doc visit was helpful in that he named this thing for what it is. I complained that usually my migraines aren’t like this. They generally don’t last quite so long, just a day or two, and they usually render me completely useless…rather than barely functional. But the doc insisted it was a classic migraine nonetheless, and prescribed some new meds for me. One to be taken next time, at onset, the other, 800mg of ibuprofen, to be choked down twice daily. Sadly those horse pills don’t seem to be helping. I don’t mean to keep harping on the same, dull topic, but it’s become a quality of life issue. And that quality is so low lately that rather than being excited about our impending trip to San Francisco, I am dreading it, if I’m still feeling this craptacular come Wednesday. Perhaps I will experience a miraculous recovery before then. And maybe the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus will all be on our flight too.
Bonus: A British author I’ve been enjoying, Charles Stross (responsible for space opera such as Singularity Sky and Iron Sunrise) has just gone and gotten himself a Hugo Award for his novella, The Concrete Jungle. I’ll have to read that when I get the chance.
Plus: Some sad news, in the ’strange reminder of mortality’ department. Ibrahim Ferrer, the charming singer from Buena Vista Social Club, has passed away, at age 78. Tonight’s episode of Fresh Air will have a segment devoted to him, featuring an archived interview with Ry Cooder. Also…it’s been a decade or more since I watched teevee news with any regularity, but Peter Jennings was one of those iconic figures who, for me, brings to mind another time in my life. Perhaps I’ll listen to This American Life’s “Who’s Canadian?” episode, in his honor.

Day five of the almost-but-not-quite migraine. I’ve officially declared defeat and am going into to see the doc this afternoon. Any meds I receive might make me feel a little…fuzzy. But feeling fuzzy would be preferable to perpetually feeling like crap. Enough said. If I’m feeling up to it, I’d like to have some fun with the little man this weekend (I fully realize I’ve been extremely unfun all week). Would like to take him to the Children’s Museum tonight. And the Walker Art Center tomorrow, for their family day. Though if we do that, we’ll have to figure out a way to evade the annual Uptown Art Fair traffic. Too bad teleporting isn’t an option.
Bonus: One of my favorite flickr-ers is now into video too. Check out 7-how-7’s clip “my co-workers pulling and sorting the faces of my co-workers“
Plus: An old haunt of mine, Moose and Sadie’s, has recently reopened, bigger and better than before. No longer just a coffee shop, they are now a full service cafe. I’ll have to stop by some time to gauge their vegan-friendliness.