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All Work And No Play

This week I haven’t had any private time with my camera, and it’s starting to get to me. To the point that I’m even keeping track of missed opportunities.

  • Just before sunset one evening, my long shadow stretched over the horizontal white bars of a crosswalk;
  • One warm afternoon, a discarded winter coat, left to hang on the guardrail over the High Bridge;
  • The little man, topless, save for his Batman cape;
  • Multiple dragons motifs (on the walls, lamps, etc.) inside the Huong-Sen Restaurant.

Somehow I’m going to make some time this weekend, though we are already overbooked. Until then, below are some photos I managed to squeeze in last weekend.

abused pylons
watching the detecto
use handrails
waterous

Where’s My Tango Face?

“A kind of Spellbound crossed with Strictly Ballroom!”
This I gotta see.

Speaking of a tango, of sorts, on the way to work yesterday morning I was nearly sideswiped by a Lubetech truck. Not the way I’d want to go. Especially as the ‘L’ in the Lubetech logo was all loopy, like the ones embroidered on Laverne’s sweaters (as pictured below).
Laverne<br />
and Shirley

I did fare better on the drive home, at least. I’d finally remembered to grab the husband’s iPod (the day before the emptiness of our new FlexDock had been mocking me) and was happily driving along while listening to Mirah when I realized something. Whenever I hear Mirah now I think of Receptionista. It must be because I’ve heard her voice a bit, from her various audblog posts and the story she read on public radio weekend. They both have these amazing, resonant, sultry sounding voices. And they both live in the same corner of the country. So in my addled mind she and Mirah could be the same person. Or sisters at least.

Bonus: Pure genius. Christopher Ford Sees a Film (via Coudal).
Plus: With all The Incredibles viewage that’s gone on in our household, and the ubiquitous merchandise, and the little man re-enacting scenes daily, well, it’s nearly incomprehensible to me that there could be someone out there who hasn’t seen the movie yet. But my very own friend Dave (little one, not big) had not. In fact, he had been resistent to the idea for some reason. But recently he succumbed. And wrote me this:
“HOLY CRAP!” and “It’s awesome” and “I should have listened to you.”
Truer words were never spoken. Er, or written. Or typed.
And: More crafty consumerism. The Morning Craft shop has re-opened for spring, now with “a bizillion new items” and their “largest inventory yet” so check it out.

Even The Accordion Is Crying

A good night’s sleep it wasn’t. At 2:49am the little man barged into my room, turned on the overhead light, and collapsed into my bed. Shellshocked I got up to turn off the light. When I stumbled back to bed I found that the lad had lain down, at an angle, with his head at the foot of the bed. I carefully arranged myself around him. At one point I woke up to find him perpendicular to me, his toasty little feet jammed into my ribcage. Throughout the night we rotated on the bed, like hands on the face of an analog clock. All the while he was snuffling miserably, trying to clear his congested nose. And refusing all offers of tissue and liquid medicines. I was too tired to insist.

In non-sleepless-in-St. Paul news, I wasn’t able to participate in March’s Month of Softies, but that doesn’t stop me from appreciating it. The theme was ‘Self-portrait of the Artist as a Young Child’ - below are some of my favorites:
Camille’s adorable softie
Adam Levine’s Halifax
David Huyck’s Superman
Orriettacat’s self-portrait (only she had eyes when she was a kid)

Bonus: Susie Ghahremani has just re-launched her adorable little web shoppe (via maganda). Oh the cuteness!
Plus: The fine folks behind Giant Robot magazine have opened their very own restaurant, in Los Angeles. All week they’re celebrating the grand opening of gr/eats with special gifts provided by Converse, PF Flyers, Uglydolls, Galaxia, Touch & Go, and Matador records. And it looks like the menu (pdf) even has vegan options.

The Dog Has Not Jumped Down Yet

Lately I’ve been simultaneously over and underwhelmed by life. It was a cranky kind of weekend around these parts, spent recovering from a crappy week…one in which I visited our urgent care clinic three times. Sure, once was a quick stop, just to pick up the little man’s immunization records, but the other two times royally sucked. And Saturday night the husband attempted to see Kung Fu Hustle without me, but was foiled…foiled! Because film fest screenings, especially weekend ones, sell out quickly (instead he saw Sin City). Hopefully we’ll be able to catch Kontroll together next weekend. Speaking of next weekend…there is much going on, including The Decemberists show (too bad it’s at a sucky ass club) and an interesting looking mask and dance production based on work by one of my favorite graphic novelists, the Norwegian Jason. For now, I’ll have to focus on getting through this week…while feeling like crap.
Bonus: Last week it was Anansi Boys…now it’s another teaser chapter, this time from the upcoming Jonathan Strange sequel (of sorts). I don’t know if I can take this sort of temptation from my favorite authors.
Plus: I owe emails to about a dozen or so people and I’m terribly sorry and I’ll try to get to them soon.
And: This just sucks…the bass player from Guitar Wolf, Hideaki Sekiguchi (a.k.a. Billy) has died of a heart attack at age 38.

courtesy of Off-Leash Area

The Neon Lights Create A New Reality

Destined to be a cult classic, Kontroll might just be the one film I see at this year’s film festival (aside from the kid-friendly choices, of course).

Kontroll

It is said that this Hungarian offering “succeeds largely on the basis of its mesmerizing surface” and…by “placing his lunatic ensemble of social misfits into a series of episodic story blocks with faultless timing, the director evocatively captures the look, mood, sounds and, most of all, the eccentric attitudes of this alien realm.” Works for me, especially after watching the trailer, which the husband was good enough to point out. We may even make a date of it. How novel.
Bonus: Too many fabulous fresh signals from Coudal to list…but if I were going to attempt it, they would include Treehugger, a ReadyMade interview with Brad Bird, and David Byrne’s new internet radio station.
Plus: Where the hell did this month go? I didn’t even attempt National Novel Editing Month (Flash to Bang is going to be languishing on my Powerbook’s hard drive for a while longer). Forget about Loobylu’s Month of Softies…maybe some day I’ll figure out how to operate our sewing machine. I didn’t submit any photos to LaLaLand either, even though I loved this month’s theme. But I did make my inaugral post to a collaborative blog, started by my new co-workers. Oh yeah, and I got a job.
And: I’ve lost my appetite…for anything but Advil Cold & Sinus, and orange juice. I seem to be sick. It’s been kind of a crappy week. At least misery loves company. In the next couple of months our very own Zophia may be both homeless and jobless. I hope things work out, my dear.

Acute Situational Anxiety

It’s shaping up to be one of those weeks. Yesterday morning there was the pink eye panic. The school nurse called. She suspected the little man was afflicted, as he’d been seen rubbing his eyes…and a classmate of his recently had it. So after work I walked in the door with just ten minutes to scarf down dinner before the lot of us piled into the car, bound for the urgent care clinic. Where we had ample opportunity to scrutinize the boy’s eyes, as it took until after 8pm to be seen for our 7pm appointment. His eyes were fine. The boy has seasonal allergies, just like his mama. This is a known issue. I’ve told the school nurse this before (in the beginning of the school year she once sent the lad home for excessive eye rubbing). We didn’t get home until 8:30pm or so. But at least we had some quality family time…trapped together in a small room…other than our computer room.

Wild Birds Know No Borders

I think Lizette Greco is pretty darned cool, how she creates sewn art and artifacts based on her children’s drawings…but Mike Monteiro ups the ante by getting tattoos (that’s right, plural) based on drawings by his son Henry. Wow. Color me impressed.

Very soon the little man and I will be able to dine together at the hitherto smoke-filled Triple Rock…as the area’s smoking ban will take effect this Thursday.

Thanks to Jonathan for the reminder…this coming weekend the 23rd annual Minneapolis - St. Paul International Film Festival kicks off. So many enticing options. So few sitters. Thankfully there’s a “Childish” sub-fest, with a few decent options for the whole family. I’m thinking the ‘Cats and dogs, living together‘ shorts, including animation by Aardman, will be our best bet.

I’ve been trying to avoid the sneak peek excerpt of Anansi Boys, because I’m never content with having just a nibble…and the main course won’t be available until September 20th.
Bonus: “…the devil-may-care deliverator is something of a sex symbol…”
A Coder in Courierland is one helluva good read.
Plus:totally just invented the best format for music EVER
My favorite examples, the Ghostbusters song and A Horse With No Name.

The Casting Of A Line Out Of Chaos

The weekend has been a busy blur of activity. Highlights have included but are not limited to:

  • The husband scoring a kickass new job (starting out contract-to-hire at the end of the week);
  • Rearranging the furniture in the computer room;
  • Zophia making the trek to Saint Paul, so we could help her set up a new domain (more to come on that);
  • Playing outside in the mud with the neighborhood kids;
  • Cleaning the house more thoroughly than it’s been cleaned in ages;
  • Returning some long-overdue library materials;
  • The little man acquiring loads of new Incredibles swag from gift-givers;
  • Hosting a dinner party with family-like friends;
  • Catching up on my web-slurfing;
  • Raising the husband’s ire by giving the little man a “spring basket” (we’re not Christian, but recently I stopped by World Market to pick up a few necessities, you know, like imported vegan chocolate and Thai curry mock duck ramen noodles, and was assaulted by an onslaught of cuteness. I was powerless to resist).

Today’s agenda was going to include much errand-running, until I realized it’s a holiday so everything is closed. The plan has now been altered to sticking around the house to read and continue with the spring cleaning. The latter is less daunting somehow, now that the house is already in decent shape.

Bonus: James comes up with so many gems:

…paying off one more debt is a nice way to begin month four of operation: get my shit together. [insert sound of screeching eagle here]

We’re right there with you guy, though only on month one of our operation…so I don’t know if we qualify for special sound effects just yet.
Plus: Romanlily’s Easter Tree photo is a wondrous thing (best viewed large).
And: The below drawing was done by my very own Dad a few years back (before either of us had seen Donnie Darko). I love his quirkiness.

Greetings from the Beaster Bunny

Easing Into The Pool

It’s been a week of transition, getting used to our new routines (which, for me, seems to include blogging before work, and posting to flickr after work). So far the little man is taking it all in stride. The other day it was his turn for Show and Tell at school. The teacher sent home a big tote bag, and the boy filled it up with as much stuff as possible (two Buzz Lightyears, a Woody, a Jessie, and Mr. Potato Head). As we walked out the door that morning he noticed I was also carrying a bag. Mine was full of essential items for my new desk - like my blue dragon, a Pucca, a Maneki Neko, and a photo of the little man (natch). He looked up at me and asked “you have Show and Tell too?” Well, in a sense, yes.
(I just noticed I’d originally posted the Maneki Neko photo in my blog on 02/06/03…under the heading “Show and Tell”. Spooky synchronicity, no?)
Bonus: From one new co-worker I learned of a theater in the burbs that regularly shows Bollywood movies. Complete with popcorn and samosas. Yay!
Plus: The Rockarchive Gallery (via Rachel James). I’ll take one Siouxsie Sioux and one Nick Cave, thank you. And the portrait of Moby is amusing too.
And: One of my favorite flickr photos of the week…Chocomel makes us hyper. Makes me happy.
And another thing: Simpsons easter eggs…suitable for vegans?

Politics Is The Entertainment Branch Of Industry

Last Fall a friend of a friend made Battleground Minnesota, a get out the vote documentary about politics in Minnesota. And now it’s one of 10 finalists in an INdTV contest. Watch and vote here.

Speaking of politics in Minnesota…here’s a blog action alert via New Patriot.

Oppose Metro Transit Cuts
Everyone will be affected by the Metro Council’s proposed transit cuts, whether they drive or not. Please let them know about your opposition.

From Skyway News, comments can be made in the following ways until May 1st:

1. Comment cards, which will be made available on buses and trains;
2. E-mail to data.center@metc.state.mn.us
3. Fax to 651-602-1464
4. Mail to: Regional Data Center, Metropolitan Council, 230 E. 5th St., St. Paul, MN 55101
5. The Met Council will also be having public hearings on the proposed cuts in April.
6. Finally, contact your state senator and representative and ask them to support a dedicated source of funding for Metro Transit (if you live in the suburbs, this is particularly important).Plus: After a long day apart from flickr, I arrived home from work last night to find some fabulous comments had been left on my photos, and had just started to look at my contacts’ photos, when, not five minutes later BAM… flickr was down for the count. At least there was a funny post about it on the flickr blog (with the headline “Being Owned By Yahoo Fails to Prevent Harddrive Failures”).
And: Another disappointment. The shoes I won on ebay arrived. They are lovely little faux suede flats, and came packaged in a green shoe box with pink tissue paper (a nice touch) but…though they are marked a 6.5 they’re really more like a 7.5. WAY too big for my little feet. You win some, you lose some.

faux suede flats