25 Jun 2013

Not Going to Dollywood Anytime Soon.

Written by sally @ 8:48 am — Section: sally

Spike and I have been listening to a mix cd I made for the car. His favorite song, which he wants to hear over and over, is the Magnetic Fields song “When My Boy Walks Down the Street.” (Hearing him sing along in that kid monotone is awesome.) However, last night Dolly Parton was singing “Do I Ever Cross Your Mind” and he made it through most of it until she got to the part where she says something how she wishes she could again kiss your sweet lips.

Spike: I hate this song.
Me: Why? Because she’s talking about kissing?
Spike: No.
Me: Because it’s a girl singer?
Spike: No, I like some girl singers.
Me: Then why?
Spike: I just…hate Texas.

11 Jun 2013

Farid Aziz Just Wants Your Half.

Written by sally @ 10:05 am — Section: sally

Reagan and I are listening to They Might Be Giants. “Ana Ng” is the first song on Lincoln, and we talked about how the little spoken word part is pretty much the only spoken word part of a song — besides Elvis — that is not terrible. One of the Johns sings: “When I was driving once I saw this painted on a bridge” and then a lady says: “I don’t want the world; I just want your half.”

A few days later, in French class, Reagan sits down next to me and says, “I saw your work.” What? I ask. “You know what I mean,” he says. Then our teacher, who hates me, begins the dictée, which I suck at. (Look, if you’re going to have a new character named Farid Aziz, you should tell me that and not count it against me when I write down “furry disease.”)

After class Reagan finally tells me that he saw where I wrote that thing in the boys’ bathroom. WHAT? The line from Ana Ng! I don’t want the world; I just want your half is written on the back of the door in girl handwritinged green Sharpie. He doesn’t believe I didn’t do it. The timing is too good.

It is now 22 years later. He still believes I did it. (I didn’t do it, but I should have.)

7 Jun 2013

Crackers, Newlyweds, Flowers.

Written by sally @ 2:14 pm — Section: sally

1. A few weeks ago Spike and I were at our friendly neighborhood fast food emporium with adjacent child play area. Those little enclosed rooms are always a bit damp and smell like feet. On this day, we had the room to ourselves until a set of boy-girl twins came in. The boy had a package of saltines he was using as a ball [ed. note: children are weird], and he and Spike immediately began tossing it around. The girl sat next to me and asked me a million questions — I love children like this, especially for about 10 minutes.

She wanted to know why Spike talked so loud, if he hurt my ears, if he had any brothers or sisters, if we had a pool, etc. She kept talking about how much Spike and I looked alike, and at one point said, “If you put glasses and lipstick on him, he’d be your little sister! Your son-daughter!”

About this time, the package of mangled saltines were being tossed down the slide, and both boys were in hot pursuit. Spike came out first, grabbed them, and took off with it. “I’ll get you, cracker!” cried his new friend, chasing Spike. Let’s pause to consider that this is a funny thing for any kid to say to another, but also to consider that Spike and his friend are of different races. Also consider that I wrote this down as the girl was asking, “Why are you laughing? What are you writing? Can I play with your phone?”

2. I’ve gotten out of the habit of reading, something that always makes me feel a little adrift. Instead of remedying this, I’m watching a LOT of Sex and the City reruns. Also Newlyweds: The First Year on Bravo, which is some fine television. There are four couples that we see from a few weeks before the wedding through the first year of marriage. There’s your mid-30s Jersey couple who got pregnant on the honeymoon, your Bollywood star and her white guy husband (her dad hates him, like a lot), the black power couple who fight about important things like the furniture a lot, and the gay couple. The gay couple is pretty great, except for the fact that the older one (Jeff) seems like he’s going to burst into flames from embarrassment every minute of the day, and the younger one (Blair) was in a boy band and thus, is very dramatic. It is obvious he is putting on for the cameras, which is at once a) hilarious and b) stressful when you see poor Jeff’s pained face. On this last episode they were arguing about the frequency of their sex having. I sort of squeaked a little as I watched poor Jeff explain he is just as fulfilled holding Blair’s hand and having a nice glass of wine. Blair rolled his eyes, stomped away, and slammed the door. TELEVISION!

3. We had an event at work the other day and a staff member who is good with such things did the flowers. When I say “did the flowers” I mean “created a giant flower ball topiary thing with twinkle lights and lilies and hydrangeas that was five feet across.” So she was late to the actual event. I was talking to one of the guests, who asked where the flower-doer was, and I said, “Oh, she did the flowers for this, so you know, she was pretty much covered head to toe in leaves earlier. She’ll be back after she deflowers herself.”

To both our credit, neither of us laughed, although I blushed.

5 Jun 2013

#oprah.

Written by sally @ 8:49 am — Section: sally

In my old age (I’ll be 40 soon, y’all!), not only do I skew more towards honesty and sincerity* and away from negativity, but I find myself really being struck in the heart by the things I read, the things that are said to me. Even a song that I’ve heard a million times suddenly has tremendous power. (These lines from Catherine Wheel’s Here Comes the Fat Controller come to me when I feel myself falling into a pit: “Don’t you think your sarcasm’s a little hard to stomach?/Your cynicsm’s boring!”) I also find myself needing to explain this newfound-ish shift in attitude to longtime friends. Because when someone is all “everything is terrible” and I’m all “look at this as an opportunity!!!!!!” I feel I should justify it or else admit I’ve recently been abducted by cheery aliens. And if this conversation is via chat or text, I can do this justification with one simple hashtag:

#oprah

In other words, I’ve decided I’m ok with being the decisive element after all (#5).

*When I was 14, I read a bunch of Allen Ginsburg poems and I swear there was this line, which I have been unable to find (though admittedly I haven’t tried very hard) (don’t judge my research emporiumist skills): “Sincerity is the key to bliss in this eternity.” I thought it was lame and wrote it down to guffaw at its lameness. Dear 14 Year Old Me: I am so sorry it’s come to this.