more reasons the internets are awesome

I recently discovered (shall we say, MUSIC-overed??) a real e-treat. If you ever want to listen to a combination of say, calm gospel, funk and folk music from, say, 1954, it's only a click away! Style, mood, year of your choice, any combo...Choose Your Own Adventure! What a beautiful change this will be in the law library; no longer will I have to peruse random shared itunes libraries and bust a gut over how many people have tracks of THEMSELVES SINGING (not a joke). It's blowing my mind. Knock yourself out.

In other news, in 9th grade, two cowboys got in a "planned fight" by my locker right after school and it was awesome. People were climbing on top of lockers to watch. In the crowd, all you could see were two cowboy hats slowly coming towards each other, then hair flying.* It's all anyone talked about all day, because everyone knew the rumble was planned. The two-hats-approaching-each-other-in-slow-motion phenomenon was incredible. Like any good 14-year-old cowboy worth his belt buckle, they had awfully tight pants on (the tightness of which led some of us to believe they put potatoes in their pants), and I remember that one of them had gum on his bum, shaped exactly to the cheek because of the jeans' tightness. Anyway, I share this beautiful memory because it turns out, PLANNED FIGHTS ARE STILL HAPPENING.Awesome or what? These cowboys were mad, but they sure as hell didn't STAB EACH OTHER. IN THE EYES. (insert shudder). But, if you're going to get in a planned fight, at least make sure you get a gross headline out of it. Way to go, guys.

*denotes falsehood

The Official Launch of L&L

Don't be shocked. Even though I'm a new and somewhat temporary FSAHM (fakeout stay at home mom), my domestic skills are at their nadir. Though, I did make dinner thrice last week, which I feel is just enough to make me a helpful member of our family team without actually becoming socially 35. Everytime I do something like clean up (and when I say "clean" I mean "straighten"), make dinner or pack up a little lunch, I tell hub I get an A in housewifery (say it in your head "house-wiff-ery"...or out loud, if you want, I'm not here to judge you). All this is my way of saying that at least for a month or two, the law life is a thing of the past, and now I hang out with our baby a lot, which means my days consist of cuddling, nursing, changing diapers, walking around our neighborhood a lot, gushing over her with nonsense songs about the cutest baby on planet earth, and then when she sleeps, I read other people's blogs and do embarrassing home workout videos. If that's too honest for you, I'm sorry, but I'm just trying to be genuine with the internets. So FSAHM life is awesome, but I'm working on avoiding mushbrain.

Consequently, I now commence this year's version of S!R!E! (Summer! Reading! Extravaganza!) only now it's called L&L. That's right. Literature and Lactation. So, tell me what to read. I'm looking for audio books, books I can find at the local library in less than 5 minutes, books you have and want to lend me, books I can find used on Amazon.com for less than five bucks, and books that can be read and easily enjoyed in 20 minute increments. Catch the vision? If you say anyone that rhymes with Refanie Reyer, I'll eat rotten pea soup and barf it in your favorite shoe (no offense to my many readers who are fans of hers) and no Nicholas Sparks either, mmkay? I'm looking for fun, light reads, and preferred but not required is some element of absurdity, a la World According to Garp. Lead me, guide me, recommend beside me...

Pen pals

Dear guy who plays Michael on LOST,

BOO FOR YOU! I'm glad you found a job that'll last through 7 seasons, and I'm glad that you're comfortable playing a murdering, sneaky, conflicted spy of a fellow, but WHO HIRED YOU? You are a horrible actor and when I watch you get angry, I get angry because I think I'm watching a 7th grader try out for the school play who's about to walk home sobbing because he DIDN'T MAKE IT, not even as stage crew. Also, you look a lot like Jamal from the hit series Ghostwriter. Do you get that a lot? Thank you for your time. And what's the deal with Walt, anyway?



Sincerely,
Gurrbonzo.

Dear whoever is responsible for Ghostwriter,

Whose idea was it to have Alex and Gaby share a room? Brothers and sisters at that age are not quite so close. Kind of a weird message to send to public-television-watching kids in the early 90s, don't you think? A little Flowers in the Attic-esque? Also, I want you to know how often I wanted to write "Rally K!" somewhere and wait for my friends to show up, and I also want you to know that more than 13 years after your show is off the air, occasionally I STILL get Lenni's hit song, You Gotta Believe, stuck in my head. Damn you.



With respect,
Gurrbonzo.

Dear Murray from Flight of the Conchords,

Yesterday during the American Idol finale, when David Cook rocked out with the celebs, I couldn't hear the music...all I could hear was your voice saying "Zed Zed Top." Thanks for that. Don't add me to the fan club.

Best wishes,
Gurrbonzo.

In which I light incense and beckon you to come through the beaded curtain

FAQ involving our hippie birthing experience:

Natural? Are you crazy? No way, man. I'm awesome. I buy the whole medicine-is-for-when-things-go-wrong phenomenon, and figure childbirth is a natural part of life, and figured women have been doing this a helluva long time, so wanted to give it a whirl the old-fashioned way (not in a cave or handcart...I mean without drugs). If there had been a problem, I would have been open to medical intervention, but since there wasn't, it worked out well. And yes, of course it still hurt. Relaxing is not magic and it's not marijuana.

Do you have an abnormally high pain tolerance or something? I don't really get this question, because I don't have anyone else's pain tolerance to compare mine to. Do I faint when I get shots? No. Am I a triathlete that pounds my body into the ground for the thrill? No. So whatever that means.

So do you think others are spineless for getting an epidural? What?? You have to have a spine to get one, right? I vote that everyone should do whatever the freak they want. I even have a shirt that says that. And I'm all about modern medicine and don't think anyone who gives birth is a wimp and I am not going to refuse blood transfusions for our child or pray for a miracle instead of getting her glasses. If you want to give the natural way a try, I recommend it, and if you don't, high five as well. Just live the dream.

What are the perks? I knew what was going on the whole time, felt totally in control, could walk around after (even though I took babysteps like a 90-year-old hunchback), had a speedy recovery, and to our delight, our sweet baby was totally alert from the first second. Also, it was pretty great to just know that I could do it, and all the nurses made me feel like a rockstar.

Hypnobirthing? Do you hypnotize yourself or what? Basically, yes. I clucked like a chicken whenever husband snapped his fingers, and even now, when he says the magic word (which I can't reveal here), I fall asleep immediately until someone offers me a corndog. Either that, or we just ditched a lot of the weird hypnobirthing stuff (I didn't have much luck imagining myself as a rainbow or visualizing a fawn running through the forest or picturing me throwing a treasure chest of my problems out of a hot air balloon. None of those examples are made up) and went with the normal stuff, which was just relaxing and some positive affirmations that champion hub read to me the whole time. That, and he pushed on my knees during every freaking contraction to take the edge off my damn back. I'd take that over an imaginary hot air balloon any day.

Other questions?? Feel free to post them in the comments and all mysteries shall be revealed.

WTF

Since most of things going on in my life are things I refuse to blog about on principle in my effort not to become one of THOSE people (you know, blogging about poop, diapers, bathtime, boogers, how absurdly cute our child is and how I gush over her all day, how freaking adorable her gas smiles are, how she hypnotizes me with her wise gaze and how my newfound mom-cheesiness is OFF THE CHARTS...I'm going to keep all that to myself...and not even mention how FREAKING CUTE SHE IS...I'll keep quiet), I shall now share a little something that's cracking me up:

• "Hey, let's commit a crime. I want some fast cash, and I want it to involve gunpoint, and I want to be a bad-ass criminal. No, banks are too scary. No, not a home with valuables. I know! ARCTIC CIRCLE. IN TAYLORSVILLE. THAT'S where the big bucks are." Genius. And while I was reading that, a pop up ad told me I could lose 15 lbs by April 25th. Tempting, considering THAT WAS TWO WEEKS AGO. Where am I?
  

In other news, last night we finished Season 3 of Lost. That means I've spent approximately 50 hours of my life watching that show in the last few months, and if that shan't make me proud, nothing shall.

Finally!

I've waited 25 long years, and now that I'm finally a mother, I'm getting me some of these, pronto.