seldomifever: (giles/ru)
My daughter's quiz show thingy went off without a hitch. She was wonderful, as always. Worst part? They kept filming the audience. If I end up on TV, I will have to kill myself, so if I suddenly vanish sometime in February after the show airs, you'll know why.

I haven't been grocery shopping in weeks, and the fam is growing tired of living off of stale cereal and slightly turned milk. Might pop up to the store this morning after bloodwork. If I push the cart around fast enough, can I count it as my workout for the day?

This sweet tune is running through my head this morning. Catchy!
seldomifever: (smoking)
Dreamed of Anthony Head again. Get out of my head, ASH. Though, to be fair, I also dreamed of Ingmar Bergman. I find the randomness of this strangely comforting.

Have a gabillion things to get done today and me mater just called and said she and Pops will be taking me to breakfast. All right. All right. I can stay focused and enjoy an hour of pleasant conversation. Little bit sabotages my dieting efforts, but I can be strong, stay on target. Right.

I'm in an 80's state of mind. I bring you more music you most likely will not enjoy, but I will. :) << See? (That's me enjoying.)
seldomifever: (Default)
Love and Rockets explains it all. <3 <3, but you can totally tell that monkey isn't really playing those pan pipes. Why can't fake things be real?
seldomifever: (bg blue)
LJ made changes, and I honestly do not understand them at all. Am I automatically posting on FB now or do I have to sign up for that feature? Why would anyone want an anonymous LJ account to be accessible to old high school peeps? Wah. Makes my head throb. Oh wait, no, that's my stupid cold.

Morning of high stress family drama. Always a good time. Do any of us ever survive our family of origin? I don't think so. Best we can do is try desperately not to repeat the same mistakes with our own Kinder. Does it work? Dunno. I'll have to revisit the question in a few years when my own kids are in therapy, accusing me of ruining their lives. Ooh, something to look forward to then.

I am stuck, stuck, stuck on this story I've been writing. I'm trying to move on and let it rest so's I can come back to it with a fresh perspective, but it's hard for my brain to switch gears. It wants to hammer and hammer at this problem until it disappears. I need to remind it that I'm in control here, and it doesn't get to be all Obsessive Owena about this just because it has an overwhelming desire to do so. Stupid brain.

And now for something completely different: This dirge song is making me happy(ish) today.
seldomifever: (bg cage)
More Shatner/Nimoy silliness. Old man Jewish actor humor gets me every time!

Husband has decided I'm deceiving myself into believing Merlin's a better show than it really is, simply because I'm enjoying the naughty Uther fanfic so much. God, maybe it's true. I did still think the writing was pretty weak only a few weeks ago. :/ Can fan fiction make such a difference? Or, maybe Head's insistence that the writing on Merlin is actually good has finally taken hold. Is it possible I've been brainwashed by the man heself?

I think you'll really enjoy this song. Please to accept my offer of the at-home karaoke version. Good times! Not flamenco good, but definitely a close second. Or, possibly, third. Well, maybe not third, but well within the top ten ways to have fun by oneself, I am fairly certain.
seldomifever: (shut up)
Okay, guys, you must learn to love Vampire Weekend as I do. Check 'em out, dearests: Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa and Oxford Comma. Aren't they way?

Another happy day! All this joy. Weihd. Maybe I'm coming down with something.
seldomifever: (bg shirt)
Disney. What can be said about you that hasn't been said before? I'm even more impressed with you this year than I was last. What a delight to discover that even though I've spent the past year and a half virtually doubling in size, you have already taken such variables into account and created seat belts that stretch to accommodate even the more full-figured of your guests. And, although I did find myself wedged in your Haunted House turnstile, the waiflike Japanese woman before me found herself similarly stuck, proving, once again, your exceptional service and attention to detail - even your faulty mechanisms do not discriminate. Yay!

And now here are some random links for the flist, because you are loved:

A Loudon Wainwright III song called The Krugman Blues - funny!

A view of Henry Miller's bathroom - neat!

An article on the modern teenage girl's growing misery - sad!
seldomifever: (bg bronze)
Had a lovely weekend. Drank like a fish and didn't suffer any consequences, so I'd call that a win. We drive through Connecticut, wondering why we haven't just moved to Westport already, then we get to Amherst and wonder why we ever left. Grass is always stickier the farther north we go.

I've got this coolio not!Xmas song running through my head this morning. Thankfully, it's on YouTube so I can turn you onto it as well. Enjoy! Or, you know, don't.
seldomifever: (shut up)
The new Star Trek movie has turned my kids into serious Trek aficionados. Older son spent a week home sick with the not!flu and watched episode after episode of the original series. I thought he'd be bored out of his mind, but he loves it. Daughter sat in on a few eps and asked if we could check out some ST:TNG as well. Now she's hooked and wants to watch it every chance she gets. She says, "I can't believe I'm such a geek!" But she comes from a long line of Star Trek fans. She could hardly have escaped. It's in her blood.

All righty, then. What's on the agenda for today? Errands, laundry, exercise, fic rec, write. Same old, same old. One day blurs into the next when you're having fun.

Ennui's et my brains!

Ooh, I know how to break up the monotony: Dance!
seldomifever: (scruffy)
I'm fannishly squeeing over the new Star Trek movie tonight. Everyone needs to drop what they're doing and go see it at once, and I need to break out the dvds and start an original Trek marathon lovefest this Mother's Day weekend. Ooh, but I have company coming. Drats! Freckin reckin in-laws, spoiling my fun.

In other news, BG stories have been coming along quite nicely since the Everything I Write Is Worthless breakdown I suffered through earlier in the week. I wish I weren't slothily slow. I'd like to be able to post them soonish, but I'm probably going to need to save them as a guarantee I'll have something ready for Summer of Giles. I can't even begin to fathom why I thought it would be a good idea to sign up for two days this year. I don't know how you prolific writers post story after story. I am most envious.

I'm currently binging on this fabu XTC song. My brain's got it set on repeat, and I think the only way it can be purged will be to listen to it incessantly until I pass out cold this evening.

Gah. And I just realized it's Friday and I've failed at reccing again. Maybe I need to change my day.
seldomifever: (Default)
Heh heh. Here's a nice linky linky for you, cuz I'm just twisted enough to find this song amusing, in a horribly sad kind of way.

spammy ho

Mar. 7th, 2009 02:29 pm
seldomifever: (scruffy)
Husband just found my secret stash of 70's sap that I'd hidden in my sock drawer. D'oh! I can't help if I love Kiss You All Over and Dance with Me and December, 1963. S'all my parents fault. Sang me lullabies like Go Tell Aunt Rhodie and All My Trials, Lord every night before bed. I needed happy imagery to help balance lyrics like "the goslings are crying, because their mammy's dead" and "hush little baby now don't you cry/you know your mama was born to die". Huh. That explains an awful lot, dunnit?
seldomifever: (scruffy)
Disney. When the humidity is high and the lines are long and screamie meamie babies abound, it's hard to remember what the hell you're doing there in the first place. But when the temps are fine and you achieve all of your goals for the day through careful planning and clever use of Fastpass, there is nothing sweeter. Our legs ached and our feet killed, but the overall experience was pretty wonderful. We had a spectacular view of the fireworks show at the Magic Kingdom, which became the highlight of every evening, because not only were they the most amazing display of pyrotechnics we'd ever seen, they could be viewed from our favorite place of all--our bed. Woot! Woot!

Flying still traumatizes me, although I survived the experience without the use of tranquilizers. Decided it would be best if Mommy wasn't too incapacitated to be able to place air masks on die Kinder should the need arise, simply because I couldn't handle hurling through space at 500 miles per hour, forty thousand feet above the earth. Urg. And as if taking off and landing weren't terrifying enough, I swear we narrowly avoided a midair collision on the flight down, because suddenly, somewhere over Virginia, our plane veered to the left and a few seconds later, another jet whizzed past us on the right. Meep. If we were meant to fly, God wouldn't have invented cars. Or trains. Or New York. And even though I do seriously dig this Jonathan Richman song, I think I'll stick to driving.
seldomifever: (scruffy)
I've been trying like hell to finish the stoopit story I've been working on FOREVER, but, I can see, it's never ever ever ever ever gonna happen. Fuck! I hate this! Grr.

On a completely unrelated note, when I was ten, my sister returned from her semester abroad with three new singles: Eton Rifles, by The Jam; Video Killed the Radio Star, by The Buggles; and, my personal favorite, Diamond Smiles, by The Boomtown Rats. Stumbled across an old video of it on YouTube today. Much lurve, flist. Much lurve.
seldomifever: (giles/ru)
Geez Louise, I'm feeling awfully cranky again this afternoon. Wouldn't it be nice if I could blame it on Life Changes or whatever the fuck euphemism people are now using for menopause? Strange thing to be looking forward to, I realize, but if I'm not gonna be having any more kids, I would gladly give up being tortured once a month for days on end.

Eh, I know. Piss piss moan moan.

My back's been giving me hell for the past week, and I think that's prolly adding to my misery. Also, husband and I are bidding on a house in Eastham once again, and the whole process makes me feel kind of sick to my stomach. How much do I not want to be doing this, flist? The minute we decide to make a large financial commitment, I begin feeling trapped and edgy. I gear my entire existence towards feeling unfettered. S'hard to change that. I like to pick up and go, sans plan, you know? Now, I see a future of sinking every extra penny into a second, crappier home. Ooh, special. I know it's hard to have sympathy for me. That's why I have to work so hard at it myself. It's a dirty job...

Oh, and, by the way, if for some ungodly reason you find yourself wondering if you should add the Sex in the City movie to your Netflix queue, don't bother. It sucked. Even worse than the show, if you can imagine. Drives me up the wall to see these supposed strong, successful, independent women kowtowing to all the men in their lives. You've come a long way, baby. Erm. Or not.

On a happier note, this song's replaced the Seussical soundtrack I had stuck on repeat for 72 hrs straight, and, for this, I am eternally grateful.
seldomifever: (16yroldb/g)
We watched last night's Colbert Report over dinner tonight, and, I gotta say, the Jane Austen/baseball bit he does within the first ten minutes is the funniest thing I've seen in ages. Clever bahstid. Here's the link. You please to watch. Laughter guaranteed, or I give you your ten minutes back.

And, to celebrate the fact that it is past 11pm on a Friday and I am still awake, I will also link you to the song I've had stuck in my head all day. As you may concede, I have impeccable taste. Who on earth doesn't love Jane Austen and The Housemartins?
seldomifever: (landscape)
Hrm. I see I missed fic reccing again. Sadness! Fell asleep at 7:30 last night. I had a pretty horrible cold all week, so I guess it's understandable. Still, passing out early is becoming quite the exciting Friday night ritual. Good grief! Makes me feel like I'm ninety.

We drove our daughter to Teaneck NJ tonight. She's having a little reunion with her best camp buds. They text one another all the time, so they've remained pretty close, despite the fact they only knew each other for a short time. In December, they'll prolly reunite again for one of the girl's Bat Mitzvah. It's the same day we're sleeping over at the Museum of Natural History, so I'm a bit reticent to send her to this shindig all alone and then meet up with her later, but I think it will be an experience she'll remember forever. She's completely unlike me--she'd have no problem going to a party all day and staying up half the night, frolicking amongst the fossilized and the taxidermied. Sounds perfectly dreadful, but if it makes her happy... Lord knows, I aims to please.


Ooh, and I've been digging this song for the past couple of days. I cannot seem to get it outta my head. Must. Own. Now.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
Having a weird day. Busy, though not enough to make a real impact on my Dumb Things list. Had a good session with my therapist this morning. The guy's wicked smaht. Insight has its bennies. And Lord knows, I'm eager to change. Mostly. I'm still making inexcusable excuses, so progress is slow. And expensive. Keep thinking that if I just wish for something long and hard enough, I won't have to do any of the actual work involved in getting me there. I don't ask for much, just want to lose weight without sticking to my points, want to be fit without having to exercise every day, want a clean house without lifting a finger, want a perfect dog without having to train him properly. Am gradually learning to accept that none of these things will ever happen unless I make them so. Am also coming to grips with the sad and sorry fact that I am never ever ever gonna fuck Anthony Head. O disappointment, thy name is reality!

On a completely unrelated note, older son really digs the bass and the drums, so we've been listening to a lot of Femmes lately. This song's da bomb, cats and kittens. Check it.
seldomifever: (16yroldb/g)
Nephews are always playing Norwegian Wood, and now the song is stuck in my head and I don't seem to own a copy of it. Why on earth not? It's feckin' perfect. Drats. The cool new thing we've discovered on YouTube are the vids of people teaching layfolk how to play various songs. Daughter has been working on beginning riff of Guns N Roses' Sweet Child of Mine. She genuinely enjoys listening to Axl Rose. His singing makes me want to drive an ice pick into my eardrums, so I can be free of the ghastly whine. Even beats annoying Rush lead singer as Worst Voice Evar. And middle son of course has to love Rush. I'm in music hell. Never should have dumped Raffi and the Wiggles for this lot. Oy!

Stories are at a standstill, but I've got lots I'm working through in my head. Have failed miserably at flistian feedback this summer. Thought I'd catch up on all of my reading on the Cape, but dial-up foiled my plans. Plus, I really enjoyed taking a break from the ff. I read actual books. Several of them, in fact. And they were good.

Shrink wants me to take a course this semester, but I've done nothing about signing up for one. Also thinks I should volunteer for Obama. Dunno. He's not stirring me the way Al did, but I will be miserable under Republican leadership, so I'm sure it is worth pursuing. Thing is, I have a major aversion to zealots. Well, unless they are BG fans, of course. Then they're cool. We're becoming an endangered species, I fear. Possibly shifting toward the Critically Endangered list, as fandom grows restless and moves onto bigger, though definitely not better, shows and pairings. I'm finding it difficult to reread the same stories for the billionth time. I scour the net, searching for new fics high and low, but they are too few and far between. Mrr.
seldomifever: (manchild)
My sister stopped by yesterday with her four children. Adult children. And I told her how sad I've been this trip. How I can't stop thinking about Russell and Grammie and Jerry Marquess and all of the other people who are no longer with us. I said that I feel bad about the fact that my daughter is turning into a teen who doesn't seem to like me any more and how little progress my middle son seems to be making with his problems despite the years and years of effort I've put into him. She listened for a while and then said, "Oh, you're just upset because my kids are going away to college and I'm moving." One of her sons said to her, "Yeah, it's all about you." But you know, the minute she said it, I knew it was true. I bought the house around the block from them, because I loved her children like they were my own. I found myself unable to move away from them for the same reason, and now? "You hate change," she told me, and then went back to reading her email. Hrm. She's right. Awareness hasn't lessened my sadness, but giving it a name and a focus has definitely helped a bit. Cape Cod is often a cathartic experience for all of us, and I just need to sit back and let it work its magic.

In the meantime, I've been turning my kids on to the Beatles. Rock Banding has brought music back into our daily lives with a vengeance. We never drive anywhere without an ipod hooked into our car's speaker system, cranking out tunes like our own little traveling classic rock station. Abbey Road, my friends. "Because the world is round it turns me on"? Yes! Exactly!

This morning, I'm gonna give my children this gift, only it will have to be sans video, because dial-up is total crap. I need to get myself some sort of satellite connection. Husband says if I'm finally willing to turn in my five-year-old cell phone for a new one, we can get something that connects to my computer. I can't remember any of the details, except that I need to find a new phone. Wonder if that's something I can do up here, or if I have to wait 'til we get back home.


seldomifever: (Default)

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