Sweetney

Re: Your Brains

A glorious zombie anthem befitting the holiday (warning: gratuitous flesh-eating ahoy!):

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Now That's What I Call A Crapload Of Music*

Courtesy of the fine folks at PCL LinkDump, for your downloading pleasure.

....................
*Which reminds me of this hilarious nugget of yore**
**Read #7, and HEED, my friends

http://tinyurl.com/2vq9ol

http://tinyurl.com/2vq9ol

http://tinyurl.com/2vq9ol

http://tinyurl.com/2vq9ol

IM IN UR SRVR EATIN UR DATAZ

UR GOING TO WANNA SEE DIS

ps: INVISIBLE BIKE!

I [Heart] Math Nerds

I just want to give each and every one of them a great big hug:

http://tinyurl.com/2vq9ol

http://tinyurl.com/2vq9ol

M_: 1, USDA Food Pyramid: 0

Me: M_, I need you to eat something for dinner.

M_: Apples!

Me: No, you need to eat more than just apples. Apples are not a well-rounded meal.

M_: How about cookies? Cookies are rounded!

Seriously, someone needs to get this girl a sitcom, stat.

Stay Gold

One very pleasant way to spend your Friday afternoon: reading the hilarious Letters To Star Jones series over at Utter Wonder.

I cannot be held responsible for you wetting yourself. Read responsibly.

[Thanks, Amy!]

R_ T: Feminist Preschooler

Yesterday afternoon M_ FINALLY got the chance to go visit her best buddy R_, who'd been sick for about a week with conjunctivitis (or, as M_ called it, in the most serious and solemn tones a 4-year-old is capable of, “Red Eye”). M_ had been very concerned about R_, requesting to call in and check on her almost daily, and frequently asking me over the course of the week if R_'s eye was still “sick” and when she might be able to play again. So of course, when the time came for their reunion, she was pretty blissed-out.

Aubade

Almost exactly two years ago today, I posted this poem. And this evening I just happened to read it again, and thought: this expresses *exactly* where I am right now. Which was also true two years ago.

Rapidly Devolving (And Baking)

[Sooooo.... a reminder to you, dear interweb friends, to please oh please take a moment to fill out yon survey, which will help a sistah out immeasurably. Fo shizzle. And thanks.]

The latest, but most certainly not the greatest, is that I now have insomnia. Insomnia on top of exhaustion, in fact, as I think I've expended more energy fretting -- needlessly or not -- over that other website for the past few days than I would've running a triathlon. Its been a weird combination of discordant states-of-being to deal with all at once: internally feeling oddly manic and mentally switched into overdrive, yet physically wiped out, tired and achy. And then last night, WHAM! I shudder awake at 3:30 in the morning (having gone to bed shortly after midnight) and can't get back to sleep. GAAAAAAH.

WHY? [sniff]

So what do we do when life seems intent on screwing with us? We make us some motherfuckin' cookies, dawg!

Mmmm... oven-fresh bakey goodness.

This Is The Voice Of Tracey's Desiccated Corpse Speaking

Hello! How are you? Me? Well to be honest I feel like I've been run over by a truck. One bearing an imprint on its steel-toothed front grill: MamaPop.

Who knew launching a silly little website would be so completely and utterly draining? Oh, you did? Well, I'm DUMB.

On the bright side, I think I lost another six pounds yesterday through frantic sweating. BONUS.

Project Sweet-Ass REVEALED!

I have no patience, that much is obvious.

And yet: doooods, I'm nervous! I don't know why. But you know how you create something, or work on a project, and it kind of becomes all “MY BABY!”? Yeah. So...

Before I throw caution to the wind and rip the wrapper clean off, let me note the following:

1. This is a beta. Meaning unfinished, particularly in terms of design (we got a pro working on some sweet-ass stuff). Changes/improvements/tinkering to follow rapidly over the next couple weeks, so be aware, and please be patient.
2. beta beta beta. And beta.
3. I've been working with tech peoples on the server load, but pages may yet be a little slow on the loading. This is temporary and intermittent. Do not be afraid.
4. Have I mentioned, err, beta?

All that said, both Amy and I are totally SQUEE!* geeked. And so I humbly present:

MamaPop

Pop culture, mama-style (or, rather, Amy & Tracey style). Enjoy, and be nice to the baby, kiddos!

...............
*That's right, I said “SQUEE!”. Bite me.

Would you like some cheese with that, umm, cheese?

It may come as a shock to some of you, but yes, I am still on my die(t).

I KNOW! Can you believe that shit?

And what I've learned about Atkins over the course of the past two weeks is that it indeed does reduce one's appetite substantially: I've had to remind myself to eat at times, which is practically unheard of, since I enjoy nothing more than stuffing my face full of all manner of tasty edible matter... Except maybe sleeping, which if set in a duel for Tracey Liking Supremacy against eating might, in fact, win out. Because really, what's better in life than being completely unconscious and insensible to life, right?

Perhaps I share too much.

Mixed Bizness.

Which reminds me: have you listened to Beck's Midnite Vultures recently? Man, SO underrated.*

Ahem. Anyhoo, good morning sunshine and hello fair Internet! Did you have a good weekend? Are you feeling well-rested? Or does somebody have a bad case of the mondays, hmmm?

But down to business: I have some news to share. And a request for your help. And a vague, taunting allusion to something FREAKIN' AWESOME in the works that I can't (or, well, shouldn't) talk about quite yet. Ready? Ok!

PREPARE TO BE DAZZLED.

The Life And Death Of A Pumpkin

Just in time for Halloween!

Too good. Be sure to catch the cast credits at the end.

links for 2006-10-13

• CELEBRITY SKIN
  A site selling celebrity, uhh, stuff. You'll see what I mean.
  (tags: weird celebrity)
• What Jeff Killed - whatjeffkilled.com
  “...Your authoritative source for news and information about Jeff The Giant Orange Cat and his favorite pastime: killing things.”
  (tags: cats blogs weird animals)
• Stephen Colbert vs. George Lucas Lightsaber Duel | Buzz Patrol
  Totally freakin' awesome.
  (tags: colbert humor)
• Grateful Palate: BLT Ring
  Looks delicious, in a metallic sort of way.
  (tags: weird jewelry consumerism)
• Children of the Universe
  My own personal feel-good video of the moment.
  (tags: music video)
• Chad Vader: Episode 4
  He's BAAAACK! God, I love this series.
  (tags: humor video starwars)
• The Nietzsche Family Circus
  “The Nietzsche Family Circus pairs a randomized Family Circus cartoon with a randomized Friedrich Nietzsche quote.”
  (tags: comics humor quotes philosophy)

You Say Potato, I say PUMPKIN

Trick or yarrrgh!

If you want to be a complete dork like me (and really, who doesn't?), you can get your own kit here.

Bowie

Oh man, this is seriously the funniest thing I've seen in a long, long time:

Guess this means there's YET ANOTHER freakin' television program I'm going to have to watch now. [grumble]

[Props to Amanda]

The State Of The Union Of Tracey's Mind Is Strong. The Rest Of The World? Eh, Not So Much.

Good news, ya'll: despite substantial evidence to the contrary, apparently I'm not crazy!

Or so says the Ninja Therapist (NT), who as you may recall I met with last Friday after my week-long battle with the dark side of The Force. According to NT, it is not I but the rest of the world that is deeply dysfunctional, which I took as my cue to start investing heavily in tin foil, as the clamoring for hats fashioned from it will doubtless be great in the not-too-distant future.

World, how you get so crazy, huh?

We talked for about two hours. And it was an incredible relief to just openly and unreservedly ramble on about all the crap in the world that's been rattling around like loose change inside my brain, making a terrible racket and distracting me from the goodness of life that's out there. But what I came to realize over the course of our discussion is that for a long time I've been -- in an almost cliched, classically male sort of way -- swallowing down and repressing staggering amounts of pain and anxiety and anger about the state of the world -- writ huge and in glorious technicolor -- and that I need to find a way to stop doing that shit if my sanity and relative happiness are important to me.

Its That Time Of Year Again!

Let the hideous torment commence!

[Pugasaurus Terriblious]

Impossible Is Nothing

But gagging is likely:

This black clad young man is Aleksey Vayner, Yale student and prospective investment banker. He recently applied for a job at a major investment bank (at least one) and included this video resume entitled “Impossible Is Nothing.”

I can't quite decide what my favorite moment is: the bench-pressing 500 pounds or the karate-chopping through ten bricks....

[via]

Who's Crazy NOW?

Jamie came home from work Friday night positively bubbling with excitement. Over this, which he now desperately wants for xmas.

And why does he so desperately want this? So that he can, and I quote, “Build a robot to sit on my desk at work and hand me pens.”

The punchlines here are so numerous that I'm just going to go ahead and let each of you insert your own. Conversely, you could choose to simply marinate quietly in the absurdity. Your call, Cap'n.

Pray for me.

Oh, Britains

Your lackey-like following of our questionable taste in amusements (among other things) leaves me at once disturbed and delighted.

No, but seriously dudes, what the hell?

Hits? Please stop coming, okay?

I was just informed that Marrit -- aka Baldomom -- checked herself into the Shoal Creek mental health facility yesterday. I realize that many of you have grown to know and love Marrit as I have, and so I'd like to ask that if you have any kind, supportive words to lend her that you email them to her at marritATmarrit.info, or leave a comment over at her blog. I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing from you, and could use all the positive energy you can send to her.

Thanks, my people. As I receive any updates about Marrit and her situation, I'll leave the info in the comments here.

A little bit of madness for the damned every single day*

So some of you may have noticed that I've been struggling a wee bit this week. Stating the obvious, right? I'm clearly having a hard time with the events of earlier this week -- that which I will not name or speak of in detail, which alone should be a huge red flag of serious Not Rightness. I am, as they say, having difficulty processing. 'They', who apparently conceive of human thought and emotion as mechanized, like we're all just fleshy computers walking around, sorting though the zeros and ones of experience. Following this line of thinking, I am, to put it simply, broken. The operating system has failed. I am the blue screen of death! I am the dreaded Mac OS bomb! Ctrl-alt-delete! CTRL-ALT-DELETE, MOTHERFUCKERS!

Life

Yesterday the twelve chicks that M_'s preschool class has been tending finally hatched. Can't explain it, but somehow seeing them this morning made everything feel ever-so-slightly better.

Baby animals are the answer, my friends.

EDIT: If you're able, please consider making a donation to the Amish School Recovery Fund here.

Melt me down / Into big black armour

I made a Fall Mix CD a few weeks back, and put this song on it as the closing tune. But I don't think it meant half as much to me then as it does now, after the events in PA on Monday... I've been listening to it on and off all day today, tearing up.

Palate Cleansing

I think now might be a good time for all of us to enjoy some bunny yawns.

You're welcome.

EDIT: This video treat from my friend Kelly is also well worth a look-see.

Ten Little Girls

Let me just get this out of the way: I have nothing to say about what happened in Pennsylvania on Monday. I have nothing to say, and I don't really want to talk about it, because the magnitude of that particular horror is such that it renders me dumbfounded and mute.

And yet, I cannot stop thinking about it, compulsively reading about it -- though I certainly wish I could. Its as if my brain is trying to work through and fit together all the disparate pieces of information its gathering into something that makes sense. As though I could, by understanding this one man's insanity, generate some kind of protection against the possibility of such evil unexpectedly materializing in my own life, in my daughter's life. And though I know its impossible -- that there is, really, no sense to be made of such things -- I love my child too much to stop trying to understand the horrors of this world and people in it that I must, at all costs, protect her from.

All of this has been emotional white noise hovering in the background of everything I've been doing since, like a previous night's bad dream that waking can't quite shake.

My eyes are open, its morning, yet I have this dreadful, sinking feeling in my gut that the boogeymen of my nightmares are real.

Death By Leapster

Okay, okay, so perhaps death is a bit melodramatic. But at minimum, seriously zombified.

Of course, we brought this upon ourselves, having purchased said instrument of doooooom. Because we're stupid and weak, and easily manipulated by individuals whose entire lifetime on this planet spans the years between the two Justin Timberlake solo records.

Yeah, we're swift like that.

At what point does one perform a Leapster intervention? Or do we just wait until she hits the preschooler version of rock bottom and illegally mines her Halloween UNICEF box to fuel her habit, her increasingly desperate neuro-chemical need FOR FURTHER DORA ANIMAL RESCUE ADVENTURES?

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

I have a confession to make. And I've been sort of mulling it over and second guessing my desire to write about it all morning, but I'm finally at that point where I think I just need to come out with it -- gracelessly and bluntly -- to get over my tongue-tiedness. Just write, without over-analyzing or over-editing myself. So.

I've been feeling really bad about myself lately. And this has become somewhat debilitating, stretching into all corners of my life: my marriage, my parenting, the daily ins-and-out of my basic functioning. And the longer I feel this way, the more I've come to realize how much of these feelings relate to my physical self-image, primarily my weight. Since having M_ four long years ago, I've been stuck in what has, for the most part, been a holding-pattern weight-wise. Sure, I dropped a bunch just after she was born, as everyone does. But after that, its been a struggle between me and 10 pounds that I lose and gain, lose and gain... putting aside the fact that overall, I probably need to drop something along the lines of 25 pounds just to be within some sort of vaguely healthy range, the up-and-down fluctuations in my weight over the past year have left me feeling beaten-down and ineffectual and hopeless. I've tried to exercise, to eat “right” -- and many of you probably remember my earnest postings of earlier this year about trying to get into shape and lose weight with exercise and sensible eating. But despite my efforts I have put back on the 10 pounds I'd lost last year. And I feel like this can't go on. That I've clearly lost my ability to control my weight, and am unable to find my way back to where I want and need to be -- for my health and happiness and peace of mind.

Answer: Lashed By Soul-Searing Flames Of Rage And Disgust

Question: What does Tracey feel upon viewing the trailer for the new Baby Bratz The Movie direct-to-video offering? (mouse over “Videos & Music”, click on Baby Bratz The Movie, click on “Trailer”)

I mean, does ANYBODY think this is even vaguely okay? And if you do think its okay, can you explain exactly how and why? Because that looks to me like a pedophile's DREAM right there.

Or, to put it another, ever so slightly more hysterical way: WHAT THE HOLY MOTHERFUCKING FUCK, PEOPLE? Is this what our civilization has come to? And is there yet a way for me to flee this planet and get away from all you people, perhaps colonizing the nearby moon or Mars, free as they are of child sexualization and blatant pedophile encouragement? I MEAN, REALLY.

WE SHOULD ALL BE ASHAMED OF OURSELVES. I know I'm filled with a deep sense of shame. That I'm forced to share this planet with you people.

Oh and PS: I didn't think it could get much worse than that, but HELLO, IT JUST DID.