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I made you a muxtape.* Mostly chill stuff, very good for laying around and staring at clouds. Also good for humping. Just sayin’.

*I am all on top of internet trends from like 4 months ago.

Earmark of a good Saturday: Your son calls from the bathroom, “Mum! I have diarrhea. Come wipe my butt.”

Oh, gee, can I?

Our 4th of July was alright. I spent most of the first part of the day rolling around and moaning. I had a horrible headache and allergies, but once I got my act together we went to a picnic/graduation party for a cousin of mine. The baby joined a game of wiffle ball and I got pretty happy about the fact that he felt comfortable just playing with some kids he didn’t know. I could never do that when I was a kid. Hell, I can’t do that now.

We stopped by the mother-in-law’s house and tried to figure out where to go to see fireworks. The sister-in-law got a text message from her friend, Maria, and we remembered that she lives on the South Side Slopes with an amazing view of downtown. We sped over there and when we stepped onto one of her THREE decks we saw:

Pretty, no?

The fireworks themselves were kind of meh. I kept trying to take pictures but my little digital camera really isn’t up for low-light and long exposures. I got a few alright shots, though:

When we got home, the husband and I watched Assassin of Youth. When Incredibly Strange Video was going out of business, I bought a bunch of campy old drive-in movies about young women with loose morals and a few movies about the devil reefers. They’re kind of entertaining, but they get tedious after awhile. Plus, it’s just downright infuriating that people still kind of think that way.

And obviously the depiction of high school life in the late 30s, before the word “teenager” really existed to describe people of that age group, is somewhat exaggerated. But imagining a life where listening to 78s and doing the Charleston was the general idea of a wild Saturday night was kind of depressing.

Also, these movies were made purely for the propaganda/shock factor, so there wasn’t a whole lot of time to worry about the plot making sense.

In a similar vein, we watched most of Brazil on Thursday night. I really, really wish I could psychotically love that movie the way everyone else does. But it’s just SO weird. Everyone and everything in that movie makes me feel vaguely sick and it reminds of some long not-quite-terrifying nightmare I would have had as a kid. The soundtrack does kick ass, though.

I am in serious need of some levity today (is that a contradiction?), so in honor of the 50 greatest conservative rock songs and the subsequent hilarious responses, I give you my top 15 conservative songs:

1. The Beatles “Norwegian Wood” – The line “Isn’t it good, Norwegian wood?” refers to the glorious benefits of a global market and the commercial opportunities afforded to us by imports and free trade. Look for Ringo Starr’s follow-up anthem for Ikea, “Swedish Particleboard.”

2. The Rolling Stones “Start Me Up” – This song was written to celebrate the release of Windows 95 and the overall capitalist success of Microsoft. Only in America!

3. The Beach Boys “God Only Knows” – “God only knows what I’d be without you,” is a sweet ode to The Creator’s omnipotence and psychic powers.

4. U2 “Sunday Bloody Sunday” – In the line, “How long? How long must we sing this song?” Bono expresses his exasperation with singing such liberal anthems.

5. The Sex Pistols “Anarchy in the U.K.” – The call for anarchy is obviously sarcasm. This song is actually just a call for an end to big government.

6. Metallica “One” – “Fed through the tube that sticks in me/Just like a wartime novelty/Tied to machines that make me be/Cut this life off from me” speaks to the glory of dying on the battlefield…er, well, almost dying on the battlefield.

7. The Kinks “Lola” – “I pushed her away/I walked to the door/I fell to the floor/I got down on my knees
Then I looked at her and she at me” refers to the physical altercation that always ensues when a manly man realizes that the chick he’s been macking on is actually a dude. It happens to the best of us.

8. Bob Dylan “Masters of War” – In the line, “You fasten the triggers/For the others to fire/Then you set back and watch/When the death count gets higher” Dylan acknowledges the fact that those who are drawn to politics aren’t that great with all of the killing and stuff and that it’s better left to people who are more predisposed to rage…like pissy broke people.

9. The Pretenders “Brass in Pocket” – The title line is an homage to how it’s better to have money than to not have money and those who do not have money should get some so that they won’t be poor anymore and then they can stop whining about being hungry all the time.

10. David Bowie “Suffragette City” – A plaintive song about how women gaining the right to vote directly led to men refusing to help their buddies in favor of shagging.

11. Ben Folds Five “Song for the Dumped” – Folds rails against welfare queens when he screams, “Give me my money back, you bitch!”

12. Led Zeppelin “Stairway to Heaven” – Proof that God is a capitalist: “And she’s buying a stairway to heaven/And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed/With a word she can get what she came for.” THERE ARE STORES IN HEAVEN! We can shop ’til we die and then just keep shopping!

13. Pussycat Dolls “Don’t Cha” – The obvious lesson from this song is that good ol’, healthy American competition gives us all character…and results in hotter chicks who will fight and/or make out to attract men with five brain cells. Everyone wins!

14. Chumbawamba “Tubthumping” – Sure, the band members are all anarchists and anti-corporate, but you can’t miss the Horatio Alger pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps of “I get knocked down, but I get up again, you’re never gonna keep me down.”

15. Jimi Hendrix “Purple Haze” – When he sings (I think), “‘Scuse me while I kiss this guy!” Hendrix is apologizing for his homosexuality because he knows it threatens my marriage.

Bonus: Heidi Montag “Higher” – The song is being considered as the new theme for No Child Left Behind.

We saw WALL-E yesterday and I have to say that if you are generally not prone to believing the hype, you really should gobble this movie’s hype up.

I guess if you wanted to put a cutesy tag to WALL-E, I would describe it as 2001 for the grade school set…and for adults who “don’t get” 2001. The references are pretty hard to miss. There’s very little dialogue, they use some of the same music, plus the whole concept of the movie borrows heavily from 2001: a history of man on earth and in space, man’s rebirth and new history. And of course there’s the ship’s autopilot, who is very obviously HAL in a new outfit.

I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.

I’ve seen similar themes in a lot of popular culture recently (see also: Idiocracy and Joe Rogan Live just to name two). I think/hope that many people are starting to question our future, much in the same way that the humans aboard the Axiom suddenly realize that there’s a whole galaxy beyond their communication screens and a planet that they abused and then abandoned at the command of a giant, monolithic corporation/government. What will become of our home, how much is fate, how much do we have control over? And what will become of us? Is there hope for our species? Or are we merely cycling around again? Maybe we’ll devolve until we’ve forgotten everything and then we’ll reset or re-evolve and rediscover the earth.

At the risk of sounding totally hokey and all like, “Let me introduce you to my magical healing crystals that I bought on Amazon!” I honestly feel like big things are going to start happening. I know part of this is watching too many nerd shows about Mayan prophecy and shit. Or maybe it’s a tiny sprout of optimism that hopes that it’s not too late.

Ahhhhh….tee-ball is over. And I finally got a shower for the first time in, uh, a few days. This day is shaping up to be a success, provided I can kick this writer’s block for the paying gig to the curb. And if the husband can rouse himself from this epic nap that he’s taking, we can go to see Wall-E.

Speaking of my husband (the charming guy making that interesting face in the picture above), he almost got into it with one of the moms this morning. We were watching the baby’s team practice, and the coach tossed the ball at a kid who held his glove out all weird and nearly got his block knocked off. The husband commented that it was a lousy throw, but that the kid needed to hold his glove up better. Just observations, not, “Oh my god! That kid needs to step it up or we’re going to lose the championship and then I’ll have to berate my kid to ease my insecurities about my failures in life.” Like, TOTALLY NOT being one of those parents. But apparently, the coach’s wife was sitting next to us and said, “Hey! That’s my husband and my kid out there! Thanks a lot! You know, everyone has a bad throw from time to time.” The husband and I just kind of stared at her. We all sat there uncomfortably for a few minutes until she finally huffed off.

Yeah. I’m really glad that tee-ball is over. Even if it means that I have to wait a whole year to see the baby in those huge helmets.

Kids, above is my first successful batch of homemade English muffins.

Look! Those nooks and crannies? I made those!

My first attempt ultimately failed. I never got a chance to get to the actual cooking and the dough, which had been sitting in the refrigerator for two days at that point, seemed a little funky. So I just cut my losses and tried again.

The baby and I tried one and they are very, very good. I really can’t buy packaged English muffins anymore…which is kind of a bad thing since these were a tad time-consuming for a bumbler like myself.

(Please do your best to ignore the frizz. It’s been humid for the past few days and I’m pretty powerless against my hair’s will.)

I had the brilliant idea to grab the last little bit of coffee from the pot and take my laptop out to the porch.

Dude, seriously, can June last forever?

Tomorrow is the baby’s last day of tee-ball. I’m not completely heartbroken over this fact, since Saturdays and Sundays will now be sleeping-in days again. Getting up early 7 days a week is NOT what’s up.

We went out to the Greek Food Festival in Oakmont last night and while there I bumped into a 65-year-old(ish) man who was not wearing a shirt and had both nipples pierced. So…yeah. My great-aunt, who is in her late 70s and is just deliciously crazy, was heading to the beer vendor and offered to buy me a Yeungling. She came back with these two huge plastic pilsner glasses that had flashing LEDs in the bottom. It’s the greatest thing ever. I call it my party glass.

We also stopped at a party that one of the MA students was having at her house which is pretty close to us. She has a couple of kids, including one who is right around the baby’s age. We only stayed for a little bit, but we had a really nice time and I foresee us hanging out with her and her family more in the future. A local mom-friend! Who’da thunk?

Alright. Even though I have a short mag article to write, I’m going to read a book. Not feeling quite ready to form coherent prose for a non-internet audience.

So, this morning, I was fixing some breakfast for the baby and while we were waiting for the toaster, I said, “Hey, come here!” He immediately jumped into my arms and we hugged and hugged and hugged. I gave him some kisses and he started giggling and peppering my face and neck with kisses. I laughed and tried to hide my neck and it was such a gag-worthy, cute moment.

Until the baby said, “You bastard!”

Sigh. I mean, obviously, he has no idea what that means. At least, I don’t think so. I just told him not to say it again and we moved on with our lives. I did NOT get super immature and snot, “Yeah, well, at least my parents were married when I was born.” Because that would be mean and stupid and a tad messed up.

First, the lulz:

And now, the baking hubris.

So, I was all impressed with myself (and the sister-in-law) after the success of our cupcakes and decided to tackle a baking project that I’ve had my eye on for awhile: homemade English Muffins. I’ve had the tab for that recipe open in my browser for like two months and last night I finally decided to go for it, since I actually had all of the ingredients and some time to mess around.

It’s probably obvious to many of you smart folks that baking yeasty products on a humid June night in Pittsburgh is a Dumb Idea, but I’ve always turned my nose up at conventional wisdom.

See, everything was pretty much fine until I got to the kneading part. I’m sure that I’ve bitched about my tiny kitchen on here before, but let me reiterate that I do NOT have counters. Like, there just aren’t any. I have a patch of space next to the sink that houses the dish rack (er, well, a towel that I rest pots and pans on to dry), an apartment dishwasher with a few feet of space on top, and the stove. That’s it. Those are my working surfaces. I’ve moved prep operations out to the dining room table before but it’s obviously kind of a pain. So last night I decided to just clean the six or seven inches of space between the burners of the stove and do the kneading there.

So, not only did the dough start touching the gross burners almost immediately, since it was hot, the dough just got stickier and stickier…and I could not extract my hands from it. I spent about 15 minutes going, “Oh my god. Oh my god. I don’t believe this shit. Oh, shit. Where’s my wedding ring?”

Sigh. I let the dough rise in the fridge overnight and haven’t had a chance to actually cook the suckers, so whether or not the whole project is a failure remains to be seen.

However, I am happy to report that the baby and I went to the dentist today and neither of us has cavities! Woohoo! I was pretty concerned about the state of my teeth since it’s been about a year since I had them cleaned and I had a very sensitive spot in between two of my bottom teeth. I braced myself for them to say things like “root canal” or “fuck this, you’re getting dentures,” but it turns out that one of my gums is receding a little and I just need to be a little more vigilant with my brushing and flossing.

The hygienist lectured me on letting the baby brush his own teeth and I was starting to feel a little irritated since she kept saying stuff like, “And MOMMY is going to brush your teeth, right?” and “Yes, Dr. Dentist, and the baby’s mom agreed to pay more attention to his brushing habits.” God, lady, back off. She reminded me of the Wii balance board which, if you didn’t know, is a snarky little asshole. The last time I got on that thing it asked me if the baby had improved any and I said no because I’ve pretty much accepted that he’s going to be in the -15th percentile for weight until puberty. And you know what that thing said to me? It said, “Maybe you should pay more attention to the baby.” So I “accidentally” jumped on it during the ski jump game. I don’t like passive aggressive electronics.

Of course, it’s been like two weeks since I’ve done the Wii Fit and I can just imagine the earful I’m going to hear from that thing now.

I’m just going to live my life believing that the $12 of tomatoes that I bought from you just the other day and that were destined to become delicious homemade salsa tonight (well, half of them were, the other half were intended for my salad pleasure) were absolutely riddled with salmonella. This way, when I think back to the moment that I looked in the bag to find mush and mold and…I don’t know, what were those, cobwebs?…I’ll see it as the universe or His Noodly Appendage steering me away from a week of The Poops. I am choosing not to see it as you selling me what were probably frozen tomatoes that were grown during, like, the Clinton administration or some shit.

I don’t like patronizing you and you don’t like my shitty Commie attitude, but things being what they are, we’re stuck with each for the time being. Except for the fact that your prices are going up and up and up and you need to STOP WITH THAT SHIT. Rolling back prices ring a bell?

Ahem.

Anyway, besides the tomato nonsense, I’m having one of those days when I absolutely hate writing. I hate talking to people about stuff that I’m writing and/or shit that they’re doing. I hate interviews, I hate deadlines, I hate nouns. All of it. Fuck all that shit.

Sigh. This morning the baby crawled into bed needing some comfort after a nightmare and the cat soon followed after. So, all four of us were crammed into our little full-sized bed. Must have been a sight.

I don’t know why you needed to know that, but I feel better for sharing it.

Oh and I don’t know why some of you are hitting the “awaiting approval” area when you comment. Let’s just ignore it and hope it goes away, kay?