The third time’s the charm

I’m writing this on exactly 1.5 hours of sleep since Saturday night, so please excuse me if my you’re is a your.

Saturday we got an email message from a friend, do you remember the blogger Eebie? Well, he was flying back to Honduras to his home in New York City. His flight was canceled due to Hurricane Irene and he was going to need a place to stay in Atlanta. Most of the hotels were booked up.

We offered him a place in our home and went to pick him up at Hartsfield Jackson.Eebie, or let’s call him by his real name Martin took us out for dinner at our fabulous local place Okinawa, then we all settled in for the night.

Sunday it became clear that Martin was going to have a hard time getting another flight, bus or ride. He was pretty agitated by this because he really needed to get back to work. I jokingly offered to drive him back.

Today is Monday, I think. Anyway, I drove Martin back to NYC. Sophie came with me. In exchange for the ride, Martin offered to pay our gasoline and gave Sophie and me a place to crash. We left Georgia at 5pm Sunday and arrived at Martin’s great apartment in a fabulous neighborhood at 10:00 a.m. Monday.

Today is a blur because I haven’t slept since Saturday night, but here’s what we did:
Walked to Central Park to see Strawberry Fields.
Walked to Times Square. Gawked like the tourists we are.
Ate street meat and loved it.
Bought a subway card and took the train north to Martins apartment.
Laid around for half an hour and caught our breath then showered.
Went back to explore more of Central Park and then sat and people watched at Strawberry Fields. Loved that.
Ate a giant pretzel for dinner because I could.
Counted 42 people speaking languages other than English. Loved that, too.

We’re heading back tomorrow afternoon because Sophie has to get back to school. I think I’ll write her an absent note and say that she was on the best damn field trip ever.

Before we leave, we’re going to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And having lunch, I hope, with Pissed in NYC!!!

I think we’ll arrive back home around 5 a.m. on Wednesday.I’ll wake up on Friday, around noon. Maybe.I should note that we disappointed Martin by not having the energy to go back out and see Times Square at night, but next time. Next time. Lots of next times.

This is the first time I’ve been back to New York since the bad thing happened.What did I learn from this? I will never let fear stop me from living.

And now you’re all caught up, she said with a satisfied grin.Right before she toppled over snoring.

xoxoxoxoxox

Lisa

P.S. I still love Utz potato chips.

Another indication you might have too many cats

A brief peaceful moment.

After observing the shenanigans happening in the living room amongst a — what do we call a lot of cats? You know like a murder of crows, a phrase I love, or a school of fish, what’s a set of cats? — anyway, you know you have too many cats when after watching the cat rasslin’ in the living room, your husband invites to you to join him on the bed where you’re naively expecting him to give you a nice cuddle.

Alas no. He grabs in you in a headlock and proceeds to rabbit kick you in your belly.

And there’s no foreplay.

P.S. It’s called a clowder. We now have a clowder of cats. Please pass the hairball medicine.

P.S.S. Thank you for the donations and empathy. You people complete me.

P.S. 2.7 If you’re in the path of Irene, please stay safe. We’re thinking of all y’all.

XOXO,

Lisa

The Long Month

This is one of those posts that I really hate to write. We’ve hit the financial wall (again). I know. Let’s just not look at each other, okay, because I cannot make eye contact when I’m doing this. The last couple of days have been a carnival of anxieties and so I haven’t written because it’s hard to bring the funny when, well, you know. The good news is that in two days, I’ve run twenty miles. It’s the only way to control the hamsters in the brain, wear them the hell out.

If you’re thinking about a donation, this would be a good time.

Thank you, in advance, whether you give or not. Thank you for being here.

You know how I love you.

Lisa

Did we miss anything?

Dictators fall. No, not really. Like an old sitcom featuring Tom Hanks before all those awards cluttered his mantle, they scamper away dressed like women. Or maybe they slither. That seems more fitting. Oh, screw it, I do so enjoy the vision of them tottering away on high heels, confusion clouding their faces. Toe-heel or heel-toe?

Claimstakers and stakeholders clutch their Blackberries. A talisman for today. What does it mean? Perspiration trickles from somewhere to somewhere, a manifestation of their need to have it all interpreted into dollars, euros, small shiny things that mean the world. Hungry, greedy mouths open. Baby birds craving the spin. Up or down, damn it! The uncertainty is killing us.

I scratch at the mosquito bite on my leg. Disinterested in this week’s BIG STORY. When is Masterpiece Mystery going to show something new? So who can dance whether they think they can or not? Who survives? What song of Glee? Whom shall I Idolize? What chef mastered, what Kardashian smoked, what did the chiseled-cheekboned forensics beauty say about the body in the library?

The internet is running slow again. The “R” on this keyboard has gone all wonky. How many days can we go before they shut off the water? Could those gas prices come down any sooner? What are we fighting for? How about a kiss. It was only a kiss. Who has the remote? Did you see my……? Got enough money on your account for lunch this week? I found the missing cable, should I send it to you? I’ve got no service where I am right now. I keep hearing R.E.M. in my head. What were you laughing at in bed last night while I was trying to sleep? Oh, man, which cat did that? Well, let’s refreeze them, make sure we cook them well and hope for the best.

I think world domination is one of those things that sounds good in theory, but the practicalities of it are too taxing for the human spirit. Best to leave it to the aliens when they get here.

We would make great pets,

Lisa

P.S. New post at PoliTits. A shorty.

P.S.S. If you’ve blogged today, please put your link in the comments. My feed reader is out of control and I don’t want to miss your posts. Thanks.

Exfoliation

Housekeeping is a lot like government services. You only truly notice it when someone stops providing it.

You know why you don’t have any clean underwear and there isn’t any bread in the pantry?

Because we fired the teachers, firefighters and police officers in order to give tax breaks to the wealthy and to wage wars we can no longer explain.

The money only goes so far, my darlings. Something’s gotta give and ain’t it gonna be those with the most.

World of Class Warfare

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World of Class Warfare – Warren Buffett vs. Wealthy Conservatives
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We’ve got it all until the revolution comes

Some more world-stopping observations to help get you through your day…

1. Scott Farkus and Grover Dill may rule the back alleys between home and school, but they’re terrified of the vacuum cleaner. They also enjoy rasslin’ on the back of my chair which means they’re tumbling around back there behind my head. The joys never end.

2. You know you’re a true political junkie/journalist groupie when you vow never to wash your twitter again after WaPo columnist Jonathan Capehart responds to one of your tweets.

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2.1 If you’re not on Twitter, you might want to rethink that. Did you know you can interact with fun people like the author Tayari Jones?

Click photo to enlarge

2.2 And if you are on Twitter and not following me, what’s up with that? Don’t make me deliver a cat to you. Because I will.

Seriously though, be sure to check out who follows me and who I follow. I’ve made lists, too. Great people, funny people, co-conspirators, authors, political types and my blog friends who fit into any number of those categories.

P.S. If you’re on Twitter and I’m not following you, please leave your twitter handle in the comments so I can fix that situation. Thank you.

3. The word super is being overused. It seems to have replaced the now exhausted extreme and mega. We have this new Super Committee of Congressional members who will decide whether or not we flourish or wither and then there’s this new Super Group called, of course, The Super Heavy featuring Mick Jagger, Dave Stewart, Joss Stone, Damian Marley and R.H. Rahman.

I think we’d have a better chance of making it out alive if we put the Super Heavy in charge of policy and sent those bought lawmakers into the studio with some kazoos and the much-maligned squeezebox.

4. Want to stir things up on Facebook? Mention Kozy Shack pudding. True story.

Click photos to enlarge

5. I’ve been listening to the rhetoric coming from the Right, the moderates, the corporate media and anyone who owes their living to fundraising money from deep pockets. I find it chilling that there’s this assumption that we all must simply accept the current and very gross income inequality as the “new normal.” Listen carefully and educate yourselves, my loves, because that horrible notion frames everything that those folks say.

6. There are two more containers of Kozy Shack pudding in the garage fridge. I’ve put it as far away from me as possible. So let’s say I decide to eat one. But I don’t want to gain weight so to balance the input, I just eat it while running on the elliptical. Webcast? Yes or no?

7. I’ve tinkered with the layout of the blog and my other blog PoliTits, making the font larger, for example, because I notice that when I’m reading blogs with small fonts, I tend to stop reading because it’s too much work. I know. First world problems abound. Let me tell you next about how the dishwasher is so noisy that I have to crank up the volume on the television in the living room so I can hear it while I’m puttering around in the kitchen.

8. I’m definitely a Libra. I’m torn between positive visioning that I’m going to get the job in Chicago for which I interviewed this week and fretting that if I think or talk about it, I’ll jinx the whole thing.

9. I think politicians should stop trying to sound hip by making pop cultural references and employing folksy sayings. They could stand to lay off the similes, metaphors and euphemisms, too. Play it straight, people, or run the risk of wishing Elvis a happy birthday on the anniversary of his death. Someone spank their handlers and put them in the corner until the next news cycle.

10. Your turn. Observations, thoughts, gripes, confessions, whimsical statements of epic proportions welcome.

This blog at five

I’m still pinching myself over the fact that I have this blog back. I’m trying to repost some of the best old work, but it’s time consuming and sometimes I tumble down the memory hole when I read the old posts. I can remember what was going on with our family or what was happening between MathMan and me. Crazy times. Silly times. Painful times.

A couple of observations. About politics. How little has changed. About money and the economy; ditto. About family; we came through it and yet the more things change, the more they stay the same. In many ways, we’re still fighting the same battles.

The good news I can now listen to a few songs without feeling bereft or like I want to kick myself.

Small victories.

xoxo

Don’t Go Jason Waterfalls

Chloe goes back to school today. She’s the last one to get back to some semblance of real life. Now it’s just me and the cats. Sigh. Hand to the forehead. (Lisa’s conscience here. If you’re believing that self-pitying  hogwash, do not operate heavy machinery, try to cross the street alone, or answer any emails from Nigerian lawyers because one of those brain hamsters has sneaked out the back for a smoke break.)

I’m helping her move in today. Every year when we do this, I’m reminded of just how quickly the time passes. Considering we started out this summer break with the mess about Cambridge, things turned out pretty nicely. We hung out quite a bit and I’m really digging the grown-ass woman she’s become. I’m not losing a little girl, I’m gaining a friend.

One of the best parts of the summer was a long discussion about what she remembered from her childhood. We remember different things, but I had the clear advantage of being the Mom. It was a treat to hear what she remembered and to see how it aligned or didn’t with my memories.

She shared with me a little story about a song we used to listen to a lot when she was just a tiny thing. She thought the lyrics were “Don’t go Jason Waterfalls…..” That drew us into a rambling conversation about what it’s like to want your kids to fly while you stand on the ground holding the net behind your back. You want them to know that you believe they can fly.

Which took us into another more grown up convo about chasing waterfalls versus sticking to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to. I know I pretend to be all laissez-faire and shit with my Parenting by Benign Neglect, but you have to know that it’s a lot of bravado. In other words, I have a Ph.D. in Worrying. Alas, they grow and all you can do is hope they heard you you saying the right things often enough.

Even so, I’m keeping that net handy. Maybe more for me.

Steve Poltz covering TLC’s Waterfalls

12 Signs You Have Too Many Cats

Source

1. You realize that you’ve been referring to scooping the litter box as panning for gold. For a while.

2. You find hissing a perfectly appropriate response to the guy at the grocery store who in one breath told you how he’s enjoying retirement thanks to Social Security and then goes on to bitch about “Democrat giveaways.”

3. You call those little afternoon naps naps.

4. Maybe you drank from the toilet this morning, you’re not telling.

5. You leap on your partner’s chest and knead it with your claws before putting your butt in his/her face.

6. You don’t care if the salmon skin has been at the bottom of the trash can since yesterday’s dinner.

7. Hang on, I have to scratch.

8. There’s something caught in your throat and the only way to dislodge it is to get on your haunches and painfully hork it into one of your partner’s best shoes.

9. You root for Tom.

10. You’re not licking yourself. You’re grooming between your toes.

11. The clockwork mouse is a total bore but:

12. That catnip ball? Yeah……………..roll that thing my way.