The Writing

Okay, we can all relax now. I've had two days of good work on the chapter. I was beginning to think I would never write again. I'm reading a Jane Yolen book about writing and she emphasizes that it can actually be a joyful experience. She has some good tips for staying at it. The Pema Chodron book I'm reading says to stay open and curious to what's happening in the work, even when it gets hard. I'm not a behaviorist, but as I've done well the last few days, a pedicure might be on the docket tomorrow. A dissertation writer's guide told me to treat myself well, as I'm my best asset. Scary thought.

The Powers

#1 Son and I saw Sky High tonight while other family members went to the Musical Arts Center to see HMS Pinafore, whatever that is. Sky High rocked. It’s all about high school kids with assorted super hero powers. Some kids have powers that are less than impressive, but even melting like a popsicle or turning into a rodent can help when the world needs saving.
#1 spent last week at a YMCA Adventure Camp where he learned skills for surviving in the wild. By Friday he and his pals were able to make fire, with counselor assistance, and he demonstrated his technique for us at home, using these tools that he carved himself. I asked him how long he thought he could survive in the wild and he predicted, “About 24 hours probably.” Wilderness survival might not be one of his super powers, but like the kid in the movie, he probably has other powers we don’t know about yet. Maybe we all do.

The Hesitance

On my way out to watch American Graffiti in the park I noticed that the night was chillier than I’d expected. I wondered aloud if I might need a jacket. But instead of going back in the house and getting one, I worried that I was holding up the waiting family and hurried into the minivan. When we got to the park it was clear that everyone needed sweatshirts. I drove home and got everyone sweatshirts and blankets, missing the beginning of this classic film. This incident represents a character trait that’s been bugging me for a long time. I am ridiculously hesitant when it comes to making a decision. Even when I’m totally sure I’m right about something---being out of toothpaste, for example---I hem and haw with wishy-washy remarks like, “I think I may have noticed…” and “I’m not sure but we might consider…” I’m annoying the hell out of myself with my hesitance. Is this how I want to live? Is this who I want to be?
I might try and work on being more decisive today. But I'm not sure if I will or not.

The Pimp

Husbandman and I split in our reviews of Hustle and Flow, the film about a pimp who tries to become a rap star. I have a bias against pimps that makes me a less than objective viewer. When the pimp sits in his car thinking up song lyrics all day and sends the main investor prostitute climbing into cars for 20$ tricks, that gets on my last nerve. I am also frosted by the song that’s sung over and over again during the film, “It’s hard out here for a pimp, Trying to get the money for the rent.” Boo hoo on you pal. I don’t feel sorry for you. Sadly, I can’t get the song out of my mind and whenever I sing it at home, husbandman tells me, “You know you love that movie.”

The Supreme

Everyone seems to think John Roberts is in like Flynn. If he can dodge questions about Roe v. Wade satisfactorily, we’ll be dealing with this guy for the rest of our lives. Or at least I will. I think Roberts should also have to answer for his son’s footwear. He should field at least a few questions like, “Do you think it’s fair to foist saddle shoes on a person who doesn’t have the resources to know better?” and “At what age is it appropriate for your child, or any child, to stop wearing saddle shoes?” Catching Roberts offguard with some saddle shoe questions may very well produce some pertinent revelations into his character.

The Permit

The woman who sells tickets to the High Museum sees me holding my camera and asks if I intend to photograph. She gives me a form to fill out for a permit and tells me that there's no flash photography. As we walk into the museum, Husbandman whispers, "Do you even know how to shut off the flash?" I don't, but I figure it out when we get to the gallery, experimenting in a corner when no one is looking. With my sticker and my cheap camera, I take on the identity of art photographer as I saunter through the exhibits. I think I'm not doing enough with props in the dissertation work. This could be the answer.

The Roadtrip

Traffic in Atlanta beats Chicago traffic to hell. We got stuck in traffic every day we were there. The worst story of our lives happened Saturday night. We had tickets to Springsteen and were on our way so cheerfully when we got stuck in traffic due to a hideous accident that kept us on the freeway for 4.5 hours. No Bruce. 200$ gone forever. And no Bruce concert. Husbandman and I are working through the grief stages. We're still in shock and denial, but the anger will come probably later in the week. Just getting back into the car today for the 9 hour road trip gave me shingles, but Harry Potter saved the day. Teen daughter and I traded chapters and we're about 1/3 through. The trip zipped by. Kudos and thanks to Dorothy for this picture of Samantha reading Harry Potter. That's a cooperative dog. I wish my foto subjects could be so cooperative. Every time I took a picture of my brother this weekend he kept saying, "Don't blog that!" I love him anyway, but geezlouise, it's clearly an honor to be represented on the blog and everyone knows that.

The Slip and Slide

A slip and slide is an activity to consider when it's 95 degrees. Just hook it up and slip and then slide. This one is inflatable, an innovation on the slip and slide of yore. We didn't inflate it because it was 95 degrees out and we would have sweated too much waiting for full inflation. When sister Joy arrived she insisted we should do it up right. She inflated each section using her car battery to power the pump. Joy confirmed my memory that the slip and slides of yore were about 100 feet long. The present day variety are a mere 20 feet. My arms hurt today because of my spectacular moves imitating Olympic gymnasts as I dove into the slide, and my parents' lawn sports a 20 foot brown patch now. But the slip and slide would not be denied.

The Dream

We're visiting my parents in the Southland, so I had planned to take a break from the blog.
I was getting a bit obsessive about a little leeway, I figured, and my parents own the slowest computer on the planet. But last night the blogosphere would be repressed no longer and took over my dreamscape. Shakespeare's Sister (not linking here because of slow computer) was an interior designer of some sort. She was giving us an estimate for some work on our house, similar to blog entries by Savvy Mom and Domestic Bliss. Then Husbandman and I had a disagreement about the pricing. So I sat down at the computer and composed a nifty blog entry about it. I hate when people tell me about their dreams, so I apologize, but this one is odd and interesting, don't you think?

The Potter

I give up trying to work in the basement and set up shop over at large chain bookstore. The place is incredibly noisy with whining kiddos (nap time, people!), and women planning birthday parties, and a guy reading about Italy whose sneezes startle everyone, causing us to shake our heads at one another in disbelief. Probably the most annoying noise has to do with the Potter #6. Every ten minutes or so, a customer breezes into the store as if arriving at a party and from across the store gleefully sings out to the cashier, “I’m here to pick up my Harry Potter book!” I’m glad they’re so excited, but I feel sorry for the cashiers, who seem pottered out.

Back at home, teen daughter reads Harry quietly. And #1 son gets into the Potter spirit by booting up a quidditch match on the computer.

The Movies

Wedding Crashers, Cinderella Man and Fantastic Four. I've seen them all on this movie weekend and I will now ramble about my impressions. Vince and Owen do their thing in Crashers and the movie amused me so much that I gave a little whoop of excitement at the end, embarrassing Husbandman and teen daughter. I had been avoiding Cinderella Man because I overdosed on boxing movies with Million Dollar Baby. But Cinderella Man is so terrific. Please go see it on the big screen. Paul Giamatti gets an A, for his burning voice and soulful face. The fight scenes didn't freak me out as much as those in Million Dollar. They're shot quickly and when contrasted with the the degradation of the Depression, they seem less harsh. Crowe looks good with the dark hair. While I watched, I kept wondering where I had heard the name of Max Baer, a champ fighter in the film. At last it came to me. His real life son was Jethro in the Beverly Hillbillies. So that's an interesting tidbit. Fantastic Four was good too, though #1 son didn't like the romantic bits. I liked Mr. Elastic's rubbery arms and face. He was my favorite super hero.