Thursday, April 24, 2008

Three-Year Oldisms v.2

So we are standing in Trader Joes line. We had just dropped of S.O.v.1 at school... S.O.v.2 loves being a pseudo only child. We had lunch and apart from our friend visiting from Australia momentarily traumatizing S.O.v.2 - because she had tried (for her daddy) to snatch the check for lunch back, which he snatched back, insisting on paying... and apart from the hiding under the chair for a moment while said friend went to pay the check... she was having a swell time, cheered up pretty fast once we went into Trader Joes and the promise of a colorful balloon loomed large.

After wandering around, pondering healthy snacks and blueberry soda we decided to check out. While the adults talked behind her S.O.v.2 looked around as toddler's do observing her world. As she came to the senior gentleman in line in front of us she made her way down to his footwear.

Suddenly S.O.v.2 says (loud enough for him and us to hear):

"Socks with flipflops! That's just crazy!"

The older gentleman did not acknowledge this comment - we hope he was in as much loss of hearing denial as S.O. Because when I repeated to S.O. and his friend what she had said we had a hard time not busting up.

Who thought they gave badges for the Fashion Patrol to three year olds!

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Must Hear

For anyone skeptical about the motives of the Administration you must listen to this...

Thursday, April 03, 2008


I've been thinking about starting a new blog... but of course no one reads the one I already have... how do people find blogs anyway? I keep wanting to post until I realize I have almost nothing to say. Well, I mean, I do have things to say but they are dreadful and boring.

CLEM. Well if you've recieved an email from my 'home' email recently then you've seen my quote - as we, so many of us do now, I never really did until I got really frustrated with this obsession with stuff and bigger stuff and newer stuff and more stuff and then storage space... I always HA-TED paying for a storage space when we first moved here to the beautiful prison that is the Coachella Valley. But surprisingly enough our Hollywood apartment was bigger than our identical rent Palm Desert condo, and so things had to go in the brink. Then when we moved into our house - my own beautiful cell (and getting prettier, we painted our kitchen last weekend!) in the beautiful prison I decided that if we couldn't keep it somewhere, neatly stored in our own house then damnit IT GOES! Thus we got rid of about 24 boxes of books - hate to see them go, but somehow they seem to keep coming back, in paperback form. I fear my Significant Other was somewhat traumatized by the enormous piles of not only books but small pieces of furniture and stuff, just stuff, stuff, where the hell did all the stuff come from and what did I buy it for anyway!? And S.O. was also traumatized by my willingness to, without even looking at things for but a moment, chuck it. The garage (the typical man's purview) is still cluttered with stuff he can't seem to figure out where it should live.

Not that I dislike the action of procuring the stuff. It is always fun, I get that. I've had my fun too. But I am now obliged to seek restraint. Financial instability (bigger mortgage than rent bill, less income, you know how it is) will force one to think hard about what really is the meaning of that new thing and do I really want to forego not having to cook on a Friday night and ordering pizza? My answer is usually 'no'.

So, as a reminder to myself and others, and probably to some extent to seem more Gore-like, I added a quote, which is not so much a quote as a... an... uh... well, I thought it up but assuradley was not the first in history to ever say it. Consume Less Eat More. No wait, what am I saying! That wouldn't make sense, no no no, it's Consume Less Enjoy More. Sort of my motto, my credo, my own way or aim of a way to live... and I have tried... oh Lordy lord knows I have tried and still continue to... but 'tis hard. Ah man, wish I were better at it... but sometimes Easter comes and you just can't decide between robbins eggs or chocolate eggs so you get both... or one bag of plastic eggs at 79 cents a bag or two... I mean, it's only 79 cents... THAT'S NOT THE POINT! Then you just hide more candy for your two children and they find it and sneak about 12 pieces each before you notice they haven't handed it all in and then in about a week and a half you feel like you need to send your toddlers to sugar detox! Thank God Betty Ford is just a few minutes away.

So anyway, consume less, enjoy more. I thought, since I am expert apparently at nothing else, except... well me, and even there only nominal knowledge... I'd give it a shot... so here goes.