remind me not to get cancer
IT IS A MYSTERY
Urine luck! A thought about urine! Yesterday it occurred to me that it is somewhat strange how the body does not produce pee at a standard rate in the absence of liquid input. For instance, if I go to bed at 10 pm (shut UP, I'm TIRED), I will wake up at around 1:30 or 2 am to take a leak. It is not an urgent thing, it is just a natural little bump in the sleep cycle, and I automatically go because if you're awake, you might as well go. And then I go back to bed, and then I usually wake up just before the 5 am alarm REALLY needing to pee. So my sleep is almost exactly in two halves, and the first half ends in a minor pee, while the second half ends with major pee, and I am pretty sure I am not sleepwalking to the kitchen in between and chugging beers.
(But what a great skip-work excuse, if I were! Sorry, can't come in today! I'm drunk and it's NOT MY FAULT!)
THE WEATHER GIRL
Nora came outside for our walk to the bus stop, sank up to the top of her little boot in the 39 feet of snow that we have here, and declared that the snowy, icy, slushy clusterfuck was the “best day of her LIFE!” Would she walk like a normal person on the nicely shoveled sidewalk? Or would she at least run on the sidewalk, since she doesn't “walk” anywhere? No! She ran through the powder for three city blocks and declared it “good exercise.” It was like a scene from a Rocky Balboa training film.
The kid's “Winter Assembly” (so determinedly non-denominational, it's practically Quaker!) was on a work-from-home day, so I had the dubious delight of being her family representative while she sang “Jingle Bell Rock” in an elf hat. Contributions from the other classes were equally thrilling. During the second-graders' Kwanzaa song I literally had to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and that was not the children's fault.
Here's the thing: Kwanzaa gets no respect as it is. If Kwanzaa celebrants want it to be taken seriously (and may I say: good fucking luck), they are going to have to start writing some real songs. Here are some hints. MELODY. RHYTHM. CATCHY HOOKS. Check out the Christmas carols, Kwanzaa songwriters! They are full of good ideas!
The Kwanzaa song performed by the schoolkids had no music. I am not kidding. An a capella Kwanzaa song. And it mostly went like this: one part of the choir would drone the word “Kwanzaa” and hold it for a few measures while the other part would sing/chant something about self-determination, unity, or cooperative economics. You know, holly-jolly abstract concepts like that. And it went on FOREVER. An eight-minute, droning, tuneless, children's-choir, Kwanzaa song! Add some electronic blips and a German guy making odd noises with a trumpet, and we could charge hipsters ten dollars to listen to it on folding chairs in the dark!
It took me so long to sit down and write an entry that it is almost Kwanzaa time already. Bartender! Bring me a Kwanzaa beer!
—mimi smartypants will celebrate just about anything.