topsoil had eroded
WELCOME OUR NEW INSECT OVERLORDS
Nora now has an ant farm—the newfangled kind, with gel for the ants to tunnel through AND eat, isn't it convenient when food is the same as building material. That is why I built my house out of Triscuits. I helped her fill out the mail-order ant coupon—the squares for entering your name were awfully small so I did that part, although she successfully spelled and wrote SEND ANTS SOON on the back of the card. Which was unnecessary, but perhaps helpful to the ant-order-processor. How would you like that job? “I send ants through the mail.” Count the ants, sort the ants, package the ants, mail the ants. Did Devo ever write a song about mail-order ant processing? They really should have.
NOT SHIRTLESS ON MTV
It is spring break week, and I will soon be taking a few days off so Ms. Nora can jabber at me about Star Wars for long, uninterrupted-by-school hours. She also wants to play chess all the freaking time. What a NERD. I hate chess. Luckily, she has been introduced to the concept of online games, and recently spent some time getting her ass kicked on a kids' chess site by what was probably a fifth-grader. Not really fair but whatever. Maybe a little dose of humiliation will get her over the chess thing.
That said, I love my little girlgeek, and I am sad that I cannot take the whole of spring break off. Tomorrow I have to be in the office for a stupid reason, so I am going to bring her with me so she can draw and socialize and poke around on the internet. Hypocrite me, because normally I do not love it when people bring their children to work, but my kid is different! Obviously! Okay, it's not different, but we won't be here long, I have an office with a door, and we will enjoy a lengthy lunch in the cafeteria, where Nora will be allowed to order the ultimate Kindergarten Fantasy Meal—grilled cheese, french fries, and chocolate milk. More saturated fats, please!
DRUM OVERLOAD
A few nights ago I was one of very few women at the Boredoms show, and although I heard a faint ringing until about noon today no actual blood came from my eardrums, nor have any of my innards liquefied. Seriously on the M/F ratio, though, I would have put it at about 4:1. And all the girls who were there (except me, of course) were WAY cute and WAY by themselves. I guess they didn't have noisy friends who liked the noise. Noisy boys, I hope you got lucky after the show. Noisy boys, both Jews and goys. Noise annoys. Buzzcocks. Something.
If aural assaults can have a “cute” component, the Boredoms' came pre-show, right after soundcheck, when an adorable Japanese toddler was carried out of the auditorium wearing pigtails and serious headphone-style ear protection. Aw, the Boredoms travel with their babies.
You know who could use a good dose of the Boredoms? My upstairs neighbor, who usually plays his hideous selection of music at an inaudible or normal volume. But every once in a while he decides to kick out the jams in a major way. Usually, especially on a weekend, I will just grit my teeth and get through it. Recently, however, I had to say something. The music was ridiculously loud, and although I did not recognize the artist I certainly recognized it as crap. And then, my friends, “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.” That's when I realized that Upstairs Guy had been playing an entire Wham! album at top fuckstick volume. That bears repeating: he was not just having a brief nostalgia-wank over a hit 1980s single. He was plowing through the entire oeuvre of Messers Michael and Ridgeley.
So with PMS and two glasses of wine roaring through my veins, I went upstairs to either ask him to turn it down or to beat him to death. I figured I could decide on the spot when he opened the door. When he did open the door I actually did neither one for a moment, because I was so stunned by the “actually listening to Wham!” thing that I couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't “are you fucking kidding me?” Luckily he immediately said, “Too loud?” and I nodded dumbly, and everything is fine now except I have trouble seeing him around the building without thinking: Wham. Wham? Wham!
—mimi smartypants has no time to lose.