Like me, the country cannot heal until the Irishmen, Bono & Co., come to make everything right. They did it in grand style the other night - and the Falcons got routed. Coincidence?? Watch Green Day & U2 cover "The Saints Are Coming" and you decide.

I kind of understand the impulse...my fall knitting project could set me back $150!

Our household watched a replay of Clinton's Fox News interview, and most members felt a wave of excitement and relief that someone had enough power to successfully take on what sometimes seems like an unbeatable opponent....a feeling shared across the Internets. But my son complained that the interview lasted FOREVER (Then go outside and shoot hoops! Is your political analysis gene kicking in? There is little chance you avoided inheriting a love of policy wonk goodness but you don't have to fall prisoner to it so early, dude!). And he got critical too - he thought Clinton was mean and nasty and "a bad President". The kid's not alone, but things seemed a bit more even-handed yesterday. Just a bit.

This morning I pulled a "BAW" move and fell on my cute, bronze, slingbacks. At church. In front of others. My dress was ok, but my foot? It hurts. And I think I have torn ligaments or sprained something or something. So yet again my husband is having to do everything and we are having to cancel stuff and rearrange schedules. Maybe the grand design is in place to slow me down?

I really lurved seeing The Lion King - Tour...sometimes I am just a sucker for musical theahtur...and I think that Julie Taymor is a genius, and "The Circle Of Life" is one of those inexplicable tear-jerker songs for me, so all in all a good evening. My son only slept through the final scene and woke in time to see the big finale with Simba, Jr. showing up on Pride Rock. My daughter was bummed about the big death scene, but better Disney to educate her about that than me.

Fall is in full swing here and I could not be more stressed out or overwhelmed. I'm trying to remember the lessons of The Salmonella and just take life one day at a time and treasure the special down time with my three big priorities. It's hard, though. I need to keep remembering my motto: September Sucks.

Bad enough that I ate a bunch of these golden nuggets of goodness in the grocery store, before paying for them. Worse still was being busted by her skinny, elegant self in aisle 10. (That would be the cleaning products aisle. Nary a food stuff in her cart.)

THE BEST OF SUMMER as seen & enjoyed by me.

Books: "Blood Done Sign My Name" by my fellow Southerner (so proud to say that), Timothy Tyson, "Drop City" by an old favorite, T.C. Boyle, and "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane" by Kate DiCamillo

DVDs: "High School Musical", "Inside Man" and "Elizabeth 1"

Movies: "Who Killed the Electric Car" (if only because we saw it at a hippy theatre in Hippyville, aka Asheville - the perfect venue!) and "Stick It" and "Little Miss Sunshine" (I will not link to this due to the annoyingly ubiquitous marketing of this film).

Vacations: Fallingwater and Ocracoke

Web sites: No end of snarky fun, and
way too hip for me, and you know how I really just want to be able to bake all day.

Music: Thommy York, Alan and Elvis, and well, you know...Justin...

Though 9/6 is the day he was born, that particular anniversary has rarely been kind to my husband. He shares his birthday with my mom - not a bad thing, but it detracts from his moment. People forget his birthday religiously. Including his own family every now and again. One year we woke up on September 6th after a really, really bad nightmare...to destruction the likes of which I had never seen before, and never saw again til the tsunami and Katrina hit. One memorable birthday I woke up at five a.m. not to celebrate my husband, but to mourn a complete stranger.

September the sixth is an amazing day, despite it all. Just think, honey! You and the new heir to the Japanese throne share something in common now. And Suri Cruise has been revealed to the world - ON YOUR BIRTHDAY. This modest, humble, slyly and strangely funny guy really deserves better...but it doesn't seem likely this year, anyway, since he is deep in the middle of a trial and is putting in 16 hour + days, including today. My strategy will thus be to try and make every day feel like his birthday...and even if I don't succeed, it is a worthy goal.

I could not be more proud of my boy Andre. Seems like I'm not alone in this. Go have fun with Steffi and the kiddos.

I don't like Bob Dylan. Or the Beatles. You knew that going into this relationship, so don't start throwing it in my face now, dammit. But I am so freaking intrigued that Cate Blanchett (among a ton of others) is playing Dylan that I might just someday pay to see the biopic. Link via Stereogum.

We are currently experiencing a tropical storm here in the third world country where I reside. Again.

I've had three job offers in two days.

I turned down one.

I'm mulling over the other two.

I'd really just rather be a mommy.

I told a couple of people about this blog just yesterday. It was sort of liberating to admit that the "Proud 6", as I call my readership, are those I know and love.

Of course, I have loads of ways of drawing in a bigger audience. But, I chose not to do so....I instead hope to please my adoring, but small public as best I can with my limited and poorly-written posts.

AGAIN with my china! I had no idea it was so hip.

And, as you might add, again with the burritoes.

It's been Weezer Week here at Whilst. First, "Island in the Sun" has a random prominence in our Netflixed children's movie, "Aquamarine" (don't bother unless you want to see Emma Roberts now to compare to later, when she is a big star). Then my son puts "Don't Let Go" on his "Awesome Rock Songs" iMix (just after "Gold Digger" by Ludacris and just before "Daft Punk" by LCD Soundsytem). And upon surfing the Internets I find out they've broken up and I'm so sad.

But they haven't! See? And better yet, they have my china! I think maybe Rivers got married along the way, maybe even in '92 - '94 like we did.

Eagerly awaiting the next Weezer moment.

Last night I wanted a quick, easy and light dinner. I decided to split a chicken adobe burrito with my son from Whole Foods. I glanced at the nutrition information. BIG MISTAKE. The thing has 900 calories! With 45 grams of fat! What in the WORLD???

I tried to research the Whole Foods burritoes but came up short using only the Internets. Here is one of my ideal scenarios at Chipotle, though, and note that it is sans tortilla! Once you eat this, your day's allotment of calories is about gone my friend. I've had a rude burrito awakening:

Chipotle Nutrition Facts Serving Size: 1 Burrito Bol Amount Per Serving Calories 1004 Calories from Fat 410 % DV* Total Fat 45g Saturated Fat 12.5g Cholesterol 136mg Sodium 2859mg Total Carbohydrate 100g Dietary Fiber 16.5g Sugars 9g Protein 50g Vitamin A 128% Vitamin C 74% Calcium 14% Iron 14%

Chipotle Nutrition Results provided by:
Chipotle Fan.com

Family game day has been expanded to include THE GAME OF LIFE...and I enjoy it. I'm only slightly impatient - much more than during Battleship and a lot less than during checkers. I will own to getting down if I have to pay a lot of taxes and my heart sank a bit when today I adopted twins immediately after giving birth to a bouncing baby plastic blue boy...the day care square was not far behind. My children eagerly go for the high salary and the glamour careers - while I toil away, buying up stocks and making sure I have full auto and home coverage. I didn't buy the beach house, prompting my two to call me crazy, and I found no joy in drawing a LIFE card giving me forty grand for winning the Pulitzer, since that just isn't gonna happen.

Life. When did it get so boring?

There is a bit of a catfight going on in mi casa.

Beyonce vs. Xtina

Here is exhibit A - I do hope you'll side with me. Ms. Aguilera has the pipes but the WW2-era stuff isn't quite doing it for me.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly: Summer 2006. Well, that should be the title anyway. After my transmission went defunct, and my husband's lovely grandmother died, and various other little things (always the little things) made us sad or mad or frustrated, we were able to get away to the OBX and see things we'd not seen and relax and enjoy time that passed almost too slowly - a novelty and a fantastic one. On the way back we ate at Wilbur's BBQ, an Eastern NC institution. I'm not sure if this is where it happened, but it might have been, and what happened is I picked up a bit of a salmonella infection.

Good. Lord. In. Heaven. Almighty.

I'm still having post-traumatic stress syndrome from the full week of hell that I endured. A bright spot is the weight loss but I do not, repeat, do not recommend the diet. My children were scared, my husband was the picture of patience and support, my parents came to the rescue, and I basically laid in bed unable to take fluids much less jello or a cracker and focusing on the intense pain 24 hours a day for days that seemed to never end. And then the nights. Oh God the nights.

I'm better now. Better enough. A proud moment was taking the children to our first (and only) Bulls game of the season and seeing Kevin Witt hit a lefty homer into our section to clinch the win. I've also attempted the farmer's market and gotten hold of some good ole okra and fragrant peaches. Today we might just venture downtown and see what's what.

The summer is slipping away and I'm pissed I missed a whole week of it. But I'm back in the saddle now and plan to ride this baby out til the bitter end.

Beach reading:

Never Let Me Go by Ishiguro

The Tongues of Angels by Reynolds Price

Blink by Gladwell

And a ton of magazines.

S/FJ has an interesting running record of people weighing in on record stores, their employees, and their sicko tactics to make any kind of money at all. I haven't read all of the entries but I get the feeling this is like a time-capsule sort of exercise: one day, record stores will be no more and Sasha's blog will provide a quaint remembrance of a time gone by.

At any rate, it should not surprise regular readers of Whilst (aka my friends and family) that I worked at a record store. This was during Christmas break, probably 1987, and my mom thought a job would cheer me up from the crushing depression I was experiencing due to a horrid bout with pneumonia and the funk brought on my heavy doses of my anti-convulsant. She was right. I can't even remember the name of the store...it was across from the mall and not in it, of course there were no c.d.s, and I was the only girl in the shop. I have never looked as hip as my music taste and especially not that year with my big ole hair and blue eyeshadow. But I knew a lot and I impressed the boys at the store. The management, inspired by my sales, challenged the employees to hit a fairly high goal that Christmas. We would be rewarded with a FREE TAPE! We made it, and I got my first Stevie Ray Vaughan.

The store had Beastie Boys and U2 and even some Lone Justice (my GOD Maria - please get it together!!! You have such talent, dear!), but it was heavy on R&B, in keeping with the 'hood of its location's preferences. My favorite customer interaction was with the guy who was looking for a record that he could play whilst making love to his girlfriend. My various suggestions (Sade? Jody Whatley? Cameo?) were met with scorn and laughter. He finally admonished me that "you ain't sleeping with a brother worthy of you, baby" because "none of those records lasts NEAR as long as me!". I acknowledged that this was definitely the case...and I sold him a long-ass LeVert record and wistfully sent him on his way.