Wow! My hope that folks would chill out a bit was a bit misguided don't ya think! Gracious!

For the record, I would like to say that I have accepted that my position was the losing one in the school board debate here in town, and I plan to move forward, make the best of what I have, disagree in civil ways, and fight really hard come next election time. Hey! What a concept! WOULDN'T THAT BE COOL IF ALL LOSING SIDES COULD FOLLOW MY LEAD? HUH???

Enough politics!

Easter, aka The Big Show, rolls into town next week and as a result, the church job has exploded into a many-tentacled, messy thing with lots of paper and scores and instrumentalists and words like "tenebrae" and "maundy" being tossed around. I am exhausted.

Spring Break, aka Five Days of Break plus a Snow Make-Up Day, arrives next week too. Sadly, we had to pass on Masters (or should I say Mistresses? heh) tickets.

My husband is now a Rotarian. He gets to say little chants and wear a little pin and learns all about the good work of Rotarians across the planet.

My children have various triumphs and trials but may I say that 6th grade seems a hell of a lot easier than 4th grade? Not academically; socially & emotionally.

My brother-in-law completed a marathon (limping for miles and still!) so he gets to cross that one off the life list. He said Everest was next.

I'll have some movie reviews next time!

To my husband, who stayed up past 1 a.m. watching punditry: "I'm reading about how reform affects the consumer and I guess I just don't get it."

Husband: "Ask me! I know ALL about it, I understand it 100%. I would LOVE to explain it to you!"

To my husband, who is jumping up and down a little bit and has wide-open eyes: "It is 6:15 a.m. and I have to teach preschoolers and go on a field trip today, not to mention the grocery store. How about some other time"?

I'll tell you what my hope is - that folk will chill out a bit. The state of political discourse is terrifying, especially in these parts. Governance is messy but I've never seen such negativity...what,really, are people scared of? What is causing leaders to yell BABY KILLER and YOU LIE and whatever else? Why can I not go to a cocktail party and hear people talking about ideas or the weather, even? There is a fear out there, and though some have tried to name it, I'll not. I'm just trying to stay positive.

Lady Gaga is an Artist

Over the past few months, I've tried to convince people that I think Lady Gaga is a performance artist and not "weird" or "stupid" or "badly dressed". She's making huge commentary on big themes, and guess what? She can SING. And write songs, and play piano. And dance! Her songs didn't make a huge impact on me until "Bad Romance" but, much like Madonna's did in the 80s/90s, Gaga's image has resonated with me.

So now we have the epic "Telephone" video - it's shocking, it's NSFW, it's too long, and even after viewing it a couple of times I'm not sure I can tell you how the song goes. But: it's art, and there's no denying it. Other videos of hers have more emoting, but this is just a wild ride that bears noting. (Unintended rhyme).



For more commentary, may I direct you to the hilarious but at times illuminating blow-by-blow dissection of the video over at The Atlantic.

The month of my birthday has begun in earnest.

First, with SHINGLES!

SHINGLES! from dooce on Vimeo.

Secondly, with wildly imaginative birthday planning on the part of my husband and many, many meals out and glasses shared. Raleigh, by the way, is hot. Exciting. Interesting. I always thought so, but now it seems that everyone else does too.

I just told my husband, just the other night, that the first four measures of "Fake Empire" affect me as deeply as just about anything can.

New National - I'll not tell you my opinion until you hear it for yourself. Who am I kidding. LOVE.

One Eighth

So my children are 1/8th Hispanic. Their great-grandmother was a Chilean born to Spanish parents. Her brother taught his four children Spanish and took them to live in Chile for half of each year. These cousins have Spanish surnames, are fluent, and hold positions in universities and governments that are Latin American or Hispanic in nature. Great-Grandmother's four children raised THEIR children in the South, gave them their father's very banal surname, and did not teach them Spanish.

My children, blonde like their Swedish great-grandmother and her descendents (they are 1/16th Swedish too, I guess?), do not look Hispanic, nor are their names latino/a, though my daughter is named after the Chilean great-grandmother - just an American pronunciation of the name. They reluctantly take Spanish as a special in school, and grumble at my attempts to teach them conversational Spanish.

I am about to fill out a public school form asking us if our child is of Latin American descent. I am about to fill out a Census form that asks if my husband is Hispanic. He's actually 1/4th!

¡Ay!

So I've written a long blog post and started editing it, and you know what? That's not fun!

Random thoughts:

My daughter wants a bunny and has written a wonderful tome entitled "Bunny Costs, Facts, and Other Information" in order to sway her dad (I am fully on board with said bunny). This little piece is by far the most entertaining thing I've ever read. For one thing, the word "rabbit" is never used. "Bunny litter box: around $9" is the type of line item described. Also good: "Cord covers: $10", since Mazda's visit in November of ought-seven resulted in all of our phone cords destroyed by bunny chewing.

The Wake School Board situation has deteriorated into a debacle worthy of, say, a New York Times article! Yay, us!

My rash is worthy of an entire post but suffice to say I've now been biopsied, sent to world-class university hospitals, and poked, prodded and medicated (and drained of countless $50 co-pays) and: NADA. Another bad breakout yesterday. It's not bedbugs, and it's not lupus - so that's good. I'm calling it Middle Aged Woman's Hysteria Rash.

We saw Avatar! In 3D. I loved it. I was completely spell-bound for 3 hours (and I did not have to get up to pee one time). Any film that can do that for me gets high marks. I understand every single criticism I've read, and I still thought - WHOA. Great looking military crap, painful destruction, believable heroes (with classically bad dialogue), and a happy ending. What's not to like?

But I still hope Kathryn Bigelow and The Hurt Locker take the prizes come Sunday. Go, lady, go!