what she said

I hate it when a perfectly good three-day weekend kind of goes tits-up. For me, the main kicker was the head cold that’s left me unmotivated and tired and ill-slept. This would have been fine had it not rained in that sort of depressing, listless way that pisses on our heads around these parts now and then. Ralph tried to cheer me up by taking me out on the town to the bakery and then, laughably, our creepy little mall in Southside Aberdeen where we ate Los Gallos fare off paper plates and watched our kids gleefully earn buckets of arcade tickets (which were then transformed into junky candy and toys) with the $20 spots my grandfather had given them the night before. Nels elected to pay for all the video-gaming; Phoenix generously offered us all lunch on her dime. After the kids had had their fun Nels donated his last five dollars to another child in the arcade. My kids are shrewd with money yet have generous hearts.

I caught up on quite a bit of writing in the last handful of hours; in addition to my own projects (scheduled to publish! Yay WordPress!) a little bit of mine was featured in a “Op-ed” bit of a popular sewing blog; this sparked a bit of “discussion” and I’m going to publish my thoughts on the resultant comments at Underbellie in a few days. Feel free as well to read my latest Film Feministe column at UB since I love writing about movies and think there must be at least perhaps one or (maybe even) two souls out there who’d like to read my writings about movies.

Speaking of writings I keep telling myself I have to take a break from my obsession on social-justice subjects including feminism, LGBTQIA issues, and anti-racism (to sum some of my interests up rather slipshod; the second beer is kicking in). This weekend I’ve been poring over Jill Psmith/Twisty Faster’s pieces at I Blame the Patriarchy (my current extra-favorite post so far is “Profiles in Patriarchy: ‘The Girl‘” and her procured definition of “antifeminism”, or in other words, Shit I Hear All The Time Wherever I Go) and the Shaxicon/FAQ at Shakesville. Taking a break from this lovely but hefty fare I switch to Twitter which directs me to events in Katie Granju’s  family– nary so much of a warning as to how heart-wrenching that read would be. This kind of inter-netz consumption is heavy lifting at times and this is why the booze and the B-movies are sometimes necessary at night and I’m considering the upgrade to evening knife hits off the stove.

And finally, on the subject of film, this weekend I watched Thousand Pieces of Gold (which I enjoyed very much) and got about 80% of the way through Oscar and Lucinda before sleep finally kicked in (the latter was not without its charm, but mostly I found myself just amazed at Ralph Fiennes’ complexion and coloring as afforded in closeup).  It’s always nice to consume good film but of course, I’m getting better about letting some go when I see I’m not going to enjoy them (for instance I’d started and eschewed both True Crime and The Bodyguard, ugh).

Being sick for me is long, boring work.