A movie I loved.

Semi-related thought (or stream-of-c0nciousness blathering) - didn't I used to love fiction? Didn't I used to read PILES of fiction? Didn't I used to write fiction, occasionally, and aspire to write fiction professionally? (Some of you haven't known me that long, but the answer to that is YES.)

I have 34 items checked out of the library right now. Aside from some animated videos, all of them a non-fiction. I haven't gotten a novel out of the library in perhaps 3 years.

This film, which I loved, is a documentary, short on interviews (short on talk of any kind) and long on concert footage and people staring out tour bus windows.

Whenever anyone asks me what my favorite film is, I answer Stop Making Sense, which I realize is nothing but concert footage.

I wonder what this means about me.

This is odd.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1381464/Bunny-rabbits-compete-jumping-course-Dressage-set-world-storm.html

Microblogging on a full-feature platform.

Opening day at the pool in our complex.
First family to visit the pool.
First people to swim in the pool in 2011.
First injury of 2011.

we are awesome.

Getting our stupid suits on and finding towels and car keys and things was SUCH A HUGE PRODUCTION that I spent the 1-block walk thinking mean thoughts about my husband and son. Weren't we just at the beach last week? Didn't we have a fabulously relaxing and agenda-free time? Why is it causing more stress to go to the pool for an hour than it did to go to another state for 3 days? Why is everything in the world such an enormous pain in my own personal ass?

And then it was time to cross the street. My stopped on the curb, took Eric's hand, and said "You hold Mommy's hand."
"She's carrying the towels, dude, she doesn't have a hand free for me to - "
but I shifted the bag to my shoulder and took his hand.
We crossed the street, the sun dappled through the leaves overhead.

Ian grinned.
"Look! A happy family. Just like I wanted."

When we got to the other side, Eric and I each laughed and apologized to each other for contributing to one another's grumpage.

And then Ian slipped on the pool deck and sliced his chin open.

awesome.

we're never leaving the apartment again.

Statistically Improbable

Statistically Improbable Phrases used in our household today:

"Porcupine Mega-Zord!"

"enjoying the Great Zucchini"

Given recent history. I realize that a new blog post from me is also.