Sweetney

Home Again Home Again Jiggety-Jig.

Lots o' postmortemy goodness to come regarding The Trip, but for those who expressed concern: yes, I made it home, though not until 12:30am this morning. [grumble.]

Bastard American Airlines.

Two additional unrelated notes:

1. One of the most satisfying personal experiences I've had in some time was opening up my RSS reader this morning and clicking “select all” and then “mark all as read.” Forcible and artificial (and, duh, temporary) as it might be, that clean slate did wonders for my outlook on life today.
2. I am heavy with VOX invites (well, I have three). First come, first serve, baby!
(Sorry, all gone!)

No One Gets Out Of Here Alive.

I'm writing from Chicago's O'Hare Airport, having been left here to die by my long-time arch nemesis, American Airlines.

When will I learn to not be lured into their steely grasp by the enticement of (relatively) low airfares, when honest and for true I know full well that I'll end up paying in emotional anguish and precious time wasted in airport purgatory?

Am I such a bad girl? Do I really need to be punished so?

Anyway, until I return to sweetneydom -- after I have my life reconstructed at home and get to spend a good long while gently nuzzling my girl (I briefly spotted a 3-year-old girl on the plane from San Jose to Chicago, and I think I may have spontaneously blown an ovary) -- please do help yourself to a heaping troughful of tasty photos ala BlogHer.

And to everyone I met, saw, and spent even a few fleeting moments with in Cali: Thank you for making the past four days so lovely for me. I only wish I could've spent more time with each of you. For reals. sniff.

/end sap

Geeks In Love.

Me and Marrit, yesterday morning.

Today's the panel I'm speaking on. Wish me luck.

gulp.

EDIT: For those interested, you can get a rough-cut, unedited audiocast of my panel here...

links for 2006-07-28

• Blogging, her way | CNET News.com
  (tags: blogher)

The BlogHer Has Landed.

I'm back in Cali, Cali, Cali, and its been a whirlwind 24 hours accompanied by the anthemic chorus of my nasal passages unsuccessfully attempting to expell their mighty payload of snot throughout. Yes, I'm still just a wee bit stuffy, and as a bonus, the constant squealing and motormouthing BlogHer engenders is causing my voice to deepen to a husky, Kathleen-Turner-meets-Harvey-Firestein tone that is SO becoming. By the time of my panel on Saturday, I may just have Alice speak for me, she of course being the Miracle Worker to my Helen Keller.

I know I'm not making any sense. Just roll with it, dogg.

Some things of note that must be recorded, even in my mildly psychotic state, for posterity:

The Day Before: Crap I'm Doing While Waiting To Get The Hell Out Of Dodge.

I'm stealing Amy's live blogging idear today (but we're friends, so she can suck it (and I of course mean “suck it” with love)), because though I have a quadrillion things to do I'm also so hyper-charged with impending BlogHerdom nervousness that I can't focus for more than three seconds on anything. So behold the glory brought to you by control-refresh and my brain on BlogHer:

AM:
9:50: I'm in a cleaning frenzy, because god knows Jamie isn't going to be doing crap while I'm gone, and I can't bear the thought of coming home to a full week's worth of filth. I also woke up this morning with a very-not-cool tickle in my throat, the sort that suggests coming illness. But goddamn it, I'm going all Jedi Mind-Trick on my own ass, and absolutely REFUSE to succumb. Take that, ominous throat tickle!

9:55: Have you seen this? Or this? snorfle. Okay, time to vacuum!

10:38: American Airlines, I ask you: what is the point of getting an E-Ticket if you can't get seat assignments and thus have to go through the entire freaking check-in process at the airport anyway? Assholes.

On Watching Rock Star: Supernova.

Without consciously realizing it, I must be filled with self-loathing, spiked with a streak of masochism.

Yes, quite clearly I hate my guts.

PS: Nevertheless, my money's on the Oompa Loompa guy. Won't someone please tell him about the hair?
PPS: Is Zayra trying to be Bjork or Karen O? And do you think she knows the answer to that question?

I Wanna Be Sedated.

Over the course of this past weekend Jamie and I would, every so often, stop dead in our tracks and turn to the other and say: “Do you realize how much the next week is going to suck?”

We have, umm, a lot going on. This morning, Jamie left at some absurd hour before dawn to head to NYC for this event (heads up, NYC peeps!), from which he returns Wednesday night, just in time for me to hit the road for BlogHer. And of course both of us have had oodles of stuff to do for each of these, so its been feeling a little madcap around here, though not in the fun, zany I Love Lucy sort of way. Unfortunately.

In the midst of all of this generalized hubbub, my parents returned to DC from South Africa, where they'd been living for the past four years. So on Sunday, M_ and I drove down to Northern Virginia -- tedious land of generic strip malls and atrociously expensive cookie-cutter housing -- to pay them a little visit. M_ was, in a word, ecstatic. Because my parents have been overseas since before her birth, and because Jamie's parents live a couple hours away and we don't see much of them, it truly is as if she just fully realized: Hey, there are these people called Grandparents who like to lavish me with attention and toys and ice cream! Grandparents, where have you been all my life (and when can I come live with you?)?

A Small Amendment To My Own Personal Guidelines For Life.

Never, ever live in a place where inhabitants are commonly referred to as God-fearing people.

/randomness

PS: Is the interweb broken today? Heeeeello? Is this thing on?

PPS: I have three zero standard VOX invites to give away. Anyone?

The Weekend In Rocking And Romping.

We had our second Rock-n-Romp of the season on Saturday. Very nearly rained out (AGAIN), but the skies held off dumping mega-torrents of rain until just after things wrapped up. I think its safe to say that this means that Mother Nature loves some rock.

Joel, Angela, M_ & R_: Four
of my favoritest people on the planet.

This Is Just Tapping Right Into My OCD, Man.

DadGoneMad asked me to respond to the query: who or what have you been obsessed with in your lifetime?

And then, in my mind, he pointed a long, boney, accusatory finger at me and bellowed: “YOOOOOU! YOOOOU SWEETNEY! ANSWER!”

And then, in my mind, I quivered in fear and hung my head in shame.

But back here on planet earth, my first thought upon reading this post was: Dude, you SO do not have enough time to read my list of past obsessions. NO ONE HAS THAT KIND OF TIME. Hell, I don't have the time to write that list. But then I thought about it some more, and decided that even an incomplete list is better than, you know, pussing out.

So step the fuck back, hombre.

You are an obsession. You're my obsession. What do you want me to be... Okay, okay, sorry.

Stuff I've Been Obsessed With (in semi-chronological order (sorta))
by Tracey Gaughran-Perez

• The Beatles -- Something New & Abbey Road, primarily
• Snoopy (Not Peanuts. SNOOPY.)
• Choose Your Own Adventure
• The American Top 40 Radio Show
• Camelot (The Musical)
• Quija Board
• Monty Python
• Books about the 'supernatural'
• Dr. Who
• Duran Duran
• E.T. (the film)
• Reading the dictionary
• The Smiths
• Mix Tapes
• The Romantic Poets
• Being “Punk Rock”
• Throwing Muses (esp. 1st LP)
• Black Clothing
• Bitter Angel by Amy Gerstler
• Mike Leigh Films (esp. Naked)
• Pavement (the rock band)
• Boys
• The McSweeney's thing
• In The Aeroplane Over The Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel
• Being thin
• Snow globes
• Quantum physics & string theory
• Jamie
• Tender Buttons by Gertrude Stein
• Deleuze & Guattari
• Jon Stewart/TDS
• The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
• M_
• Bad reality TV
• Blogging

...And now I MUST STOP. MUST. STOP. [cough]

How Do You Explain This?

To yourself and others?

Umm.... oopsie?

New 'Do.

Which is pretty much the old 'do, but with some chunky hi/lo-lights.

I know. Thrilling.

I Love This Woman.

If you don't already read Amalah (and DUH, who are you?), this is exactly why you should.

When we were at the beach, Noah was kind of coveting M_'s Blue from Blue's Clue's stuffed animal, to the point where she felt it necessary to go up to him and say, and I quote: “Umm, Baby? Don't suck on my Blue.”

Precious moments, indeed.

I wanna be wicked, I wanna tell lies / I wanna be mean, and throw mud pies*

This week, as though she could read my mind (or my blog, snort), M_ has been obsessed with the Blues Clues episode(s) that introduce Joe and exit Steve. Its a 3-parter that TiVo recorded as one 90 minute episode at some point last week, and she's demanded to view it (or parts of it) every day since. So every day I have to watch Steve walk out the Blue's Clue's house front door to leave for college, pause, then turn and run back to face the camera (us): “Thanks for all your help” he says to us softly, with visible emotion. And then he's out the door and *poof* gone. I've teared up at least twice [shakes fist at television].

But then, I'm kind of primed for sniveling at this point. Its only Wednesday, and this week has already been one of the toughest in recent memory. Last Friday I went to pick up M_ from her usual 1/2 day of daycare, and immediately wished I hadn't, as upon entering the building I was instantly barraged with tales of how difficult and defiant M_ had been since moment one that morning, putting herself into 'time-out' for most of the 5 full hours she was there. Worse yet, I was told that she had (oh this is rich) actually spit at one of her daycare providers -- something I don't even think she can conceive the meaning of. Nevertheless, I was disturbed enough by the tales of all this very-not-like-her behavior that I called our pediatrician when we returned home, who -- after hearing of her wackoness, and the lingering nighttime cough she'd had for a couple weeks -- suggested perhaps something beyond simple juvenile delinquency was at work, and that maybe I should bring her into the office for a once over, just to be on the safe side.

Turns out she had a sinus infection, and was likely in a good deal of pain. Which explains her sudden craziness at daycare, right? Problem solved, right? Wrong.

Liger/Dang!

Next step? The Love/Hate fist tattoos.

And How Was Your Day?

To give you a sense of how today went for me: I think I just consumed my weight in pasta.

Yes, my friends, its been a very high carb day.

Oh, and if any of you are in the area: think you could swing by and hit me over the head with a blunt metal object of some sort until I'm rendered unconscious? Gracias!

..........
PS: Wholly unrelatedly, doesn't this year's Project Runway already look like its going to be amazing? And don't you already want to stab that fake British accent boy repeatedly in the eye?

PPS: Also completely random: I've -- just moments ago -- discovered the cure for hiccups (well, thanks to the interweb). Ready? Rub your tongue on the roof of your mouth. Go all the way from the very back all the way to your teeth. Do this several times. No shit, it totally works.

PPPS: This site has been experiencing some serious down time today. I have no idea what the problem is with my web host, but I'm pretty much ready to give some heads a good choppin'. I am, after all, high on carbs, and cannot be held responsible for my actions (burp).

I've Been Tagged.

I am powerless before The Meme, and therefore must comply (to understand from whence this came, go here).

What can I learn about you in under 5 minutes? When did you start blogging and why?
My about page does a pretty good job covering the basics and a good chunk of my history. Beyond that, I'd fill in with: I'm a huge geek, with a penchant for both indie film and bad reality tv, a lover of both the high and the low culture (not that I even buy into that distinction, but you get my drift). I'm an introvert in extrovert's clothing, gregarious and open, but a lover of solitude. I can find humor in almost anything, and am deeply charmed by people with dry, sarcastic wit. I'm fiercely loyal to friends, but it can take a while to get beyond some initial reserve I put up. I love nothing more than good guacamole, and a Campari with soda (though not necessarily together).

I started blogging about 3-4 years ago on LiveJournal, and switched over to sweetney a little over 2 years ago. The impetus clearly was being a stay at home mom, and having little contact with people in similar situations who I could relate to. Since then, blogging has become -- for better or worse (and I would say better) -- a central part of my life, as previously discussed.

[Note: I'm changing the 2nd question from the one The Queen used, as I don't have a body part photo to share]
Who do you read every day, rain or shine?
On the days they post, I never miss Heather, Alice, Eden, Melissa, Jen, Amy, Marrit, and Beth. I read a ridiculous amount of blogs though, and were I to list all of my must-reads, your head might explode.

How do you feel about meeting bloggers in real life? Are you nervous?
Having met a fair number of bloggers already in “real life”, I'm pretty comfortable with the concept, generally speaking, but BlogHer this year looks to be so ridiculously massive that I'm honestly a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of people going that I can't wait to meet. I'm sort of torn between alternating feelings of salivating excitement and what amounts to an anxiety attack -- and I'm not usually one for social anxiety. Expect me to fluctuate between hysterical excitement and gentle weeping, as I'll likely be somewhat overwhelmed by all the bloggy goodness (if happily so).

Important question. How do you party?
With a drink in one hand, and a cigarette in another. I think what I look forward to most about BlogHer is just hanging out with all of you ladies, drinkin' and chattin'. Cannot. Wait.

Are you and your blogging persona the same person?
Yep. If you read sweetney, expect more of the same, but with additional dorky facial expressions and lots of hand gesturing.

I'm tagging the aforementioned Melissa, Jen, Amy, Marrit, and Beth. Oh c'mon, you know you wanna!

PS: Relatedly, check out this piece from The Boston Globe about BlogHer.

SoaP: The Cheesy Pop Song.

Complete with the now obligatory rap breakdown!

I like that Mr. Jackson makes a cameo, though.

Thanks, Karen!

Dumptruck/Tube Symposium.

You're gonna want to see this.

PS: One, Two, Three, JINKIES!

links for 2006-07-14

• Independent Online Edition > Crime
  Marginalia solves question of Jack The Ripper's Identity.
  (tags: crime)
• Man Survives Polar Bear Attack.
  Number One on the Threat Down, man! ALSO: Warning: grisly images ahead!
  (tags: wildlife bears)
• Time Netsule - The Internet Time Capsule
  How do you want to be remembered?
  (tags: internet web timecapsule)
• Elmo And Friends To Help Military Families
  Elmo's Dad goes off to war. UGH.
  (tags: war sesamestreet elmo)
• Zillow.com - Bird's Eye View of Famous Homes
  Including the Six Feet Under funeral home!
  (tags: realestate cool)
• Woman finds more than 20 snakes inside car - Boston.com
  Snakes In A Car, man.
  (tags: humor snakes)
• Esquire:Feature Story:The "Snakes on a Plane" Problem
  Klosterman brings down the room for a minute.
  (tags: snakesonaplane SOAP film)
• the eastern block's no. 1 instructional disco clip has now arrived on youtube
  Oh WOW.
  (tags: disco dance humor)

Did he think Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper were just a little bit snotty?

This morning I've been sitting here, idly trying to think of questions I'd be asking Steve Burns were I interviewing him (shakes fist at Marrit). You know, stuff like: on a scale of one to ten, how gay is the Present Store cash register? And do you hate Joe as much as we do? And umm would you like to make out with me? So much to know!

And I haven't even begun to broach his failed career as an indie rocker yet (though perhaps failed isn't the right word; once a member of the Flaming Lips produces an album of yours, I think you're probably treading into avant-garde territory, where failure isn't really part of the lexicon).

I know he has in his possession the original Thinking Chair. I wonder if he still sits down in it and thinks. Thinks. Thi-i-i-inks.

Does he miss the throngs of worshipful moms (oh yeah, and kids. Whatever.)?

Does he still wear his green striped shirt? How about the fluffy bunny slippers?

Does he still love us, as we love him (sniff)?

Think Of The Children.

And ways to haunt their dreams.

Some creepy, some bizarre, some freakin' hilarious. I'm partial to the gummysteins.

EDIT: First link fixed... sorry for the confusion!

OMG, LIKE, YOU GUYS!

News flash! I've just learned that my dearest Marrit (who's a freelance journalist, if ya didn't know) is going to be interviewing... wait... for... it.... STEVE BURNS.

Yes, THAT Steve Burns. Steve! OMGWTF couldn't you just DIE?

If you've been reading sweetney for any length of time, its probably become abundantly clear to you that I have, well, something of a wee girl crush on Marrit. But now I'm painfully torn between my long-standing desire to (oh-so-lovingly) kidnap her so that we can run off together to a land where pure lady love can flourish unimpeded (and please don't sully my love with your banal sexuality; I'm talking here about a love that transcends the base appetites of this mortal coil, man), and the sudden impulse to claw her eyes and pull out handfuls of her hair while maniacally shrieking: GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU BITCH!

There is, apparently, a razor-thin line between psychotic stalkery love and lunatic jealous hate. Sad, really.

Unrelated PS: For those of you following this comments thread, I've just posted a couple relevant follow-ups there, so check it.

I'm A Strong Black Woman.

Or so this would seem to suggest. [From the Club Mom home page today]

You know, deep down inside, I've always felt like a strong black woman. Sistahs.

Does this mean I can get cornrows now without everyone openly mocking me? ACES!

Unknown White Male.

This looks pretty amazing. To imagine losing your entire past... well, its unimaginable, I guess.

Watch the trailer.

Daryl Hannah: Noble Fruitcake.

After watching several of these video blog episodes, I'm left feeling admiration for Hannah's path, tempered by the unshakable sense that she's still a very serious nutter.

With Blogs Like These, Who Needs Friends?

Last night I ran across this spot-on post (and the related article on Mamazine) from Kristen, and it got me to thinking about how much of what could pass for my social life is, in fact, transacted online.

Over the past ten years, about 90% of my relationships with people have somehow resulted from online interaction in one form or other. And I guess if there's any sort of problem with that fact, its that over the past five or so years, as I've become more and more deeply involved in online communities and blogs, the vast majority of people I've ended up feeling really connected to for whatever reason live outside of my physical geography. I'm lucky to have met several Baltimore-area women I like through online means, but in truth I don't see much of them. Partly this is related to the overriding fast and furious rhythm of modern life -- each of us scurrying about in our own small lives, getting things done that need to get done, keeping our heads above water -- but I know that isn't a complete explanation.

Does This Mean I Have To Like Adam Carolla Now?

Because honestly, I don't really care for him. But oh boy howdy, do I LOOOOOVE THIS.

Blarghs.

I redid my redesign of Rock-n-Romp::Baltimore. Because I'm just that chock full o' neuroses. And because Wordpress is a baaaad mutha-[shut yo mouth!]. Anyway, puuuuurty.

Also, further evidence that I'm gunning for the title of Biggest, Most Flamingest Geek Ever: Welcome to M_James.com.

I suck so hard that my suckingness, epic in its scale, somehow inexplicably morphs into stone cold RADNESS, yes?

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beachiful.

Sadly, we're back from the beach. I know you all loved nothing more than to read about our beach house fun and frolicks... Actually, the amount of email I received along the lines of I hate you, you lucky bitch suggests otherwise, but I'm quite skilled at denial. Ahem. In any case, its back to ye olde grind my friends, and you'll be happy to hear that not only have I been reduced from Asskickin' Nametakin' Beach Goddess to pathetic mere mortal, but my intestinal tract has been mounting a full-scale digestive revolt since our return; it may soon vacate my body entirely, perhaps in the hopes of catching a bus back to Bethany, to sun itself on a secluded dune whilst imbibing mojitos.

Yes, I just grossed myself out, too.

Non-Beach Beach House Fun.

Other stuff we've done on our summer vacation...

Like... counting money. HOURS of family fun!

Daily Vacation Checklist.

• Slept in, miraculously, past 9am? CHECK.
• Picked apart the remains of a left over party veggie/fruit tray for breakfast -slash-lunch? CHECK.
• Watched scintillating VH1 exposes on Hollywood's diabolical starlet weight obsession? CHECK.
• Read multiple chapters in beach book? CHECK.
• Took several-hours-long afternoon nap? CHECK.
• Showered and dressed after 5pm, and then only so that I'd be able to wear this? CHECK.
• Indoctrinated the children with Katamari Damacy (AKA, at least according to Kingston & M_, “Roll King!”)

CHECK!

• Next we bring on the pizza and mojitos? CHECK.

Oh beach house life, why do you have to be so full of awesomey goodness?

Reverse Sandcastle Of The People.

Because our family is all about messing with people's expectations, it was decided that building the typical sandcastle at the beach simply would not do. Instead, creating a yawning, hellmouth-like hole in the sand somehow seemed the way to go.

And really, what could be more fun?

Beach House: Day 4, A Photo Essay.

Helloooo Delaware! Can you hear me Bethany Beach?! We're on Fi-yah!

Rad fridge art, courtesy of Justin.

Brief Non-Vacation Interlude.

My husband is a rock star, man. [From this week's Baltimore Citypaper]

And though you can't see it, he's wearing a SoaP t-shirt.

Delaware Is For Lovers.

Beach House Update: I believe M_ may have found her soul mate in our friend Kelly's son, Kingston:

Its not too early to betroth them, right? I mean, if we went over to West Virginia, they could probably get married in a few years, right?