Life, it overwhelms. So today you get cc:d on a letter to my friend Skip, written in response to his suggestions for what a body should do with a bit of iTunes credit. Skip is one of my favorite straight dope sources for politics and music.
Got Santogold. Sounds good to me, as I like M.I.A. quite a lot when she doesn't suck. Also not rated explicit, so I can let Iz have a listen, too.
Do you have a favorite song at the moment?
What is it like to live in L.A. right now, culturally and politically? Many of my Westside friends seem quite clueless beneath the gloss of their lives. Not that anyone likes to face a less-than-glossy reality.
How are things in general? I am waiting for the septic tank truck to come, so that my neighbors and I can thrill to the smell of raw sewage. Better fouling the air temporarily than backing up the drains.
Right now I am working on our second Can I Sit With You? collection and trying to get enough sleep. Kids are 50/50 fun/pains in my ass. Seymour is at a conference in Jackson Hole. I almost hung up when he called to say that the Tetons are beautiful, the weather is perfect, and the sky is blue blue blue. My brother James is at the same conference, and I almost texted him with a request to spike Seymour's drink with something emetic. Almost. But I've had some good trips this year, too, so I can't really complain long term, only when under siege*.
Hope you're well,
P.S. Shoe recommendations? Leelo's fat little feet need a special pair of expensive Japanese shoes. Expensive for kids' shoes, not expensive in general. He likes to drag his feet on the ground and has rubbed the toes clean off of two pairs already.
*It took Leelo three hours to get to sleep last night. I think it was a combination of his dad being gone, my having changed the sheets on his bed, and his having taking a bath downstairs rather than his usual upstairs. It was bad, with the hitting and screaming and crying and scratching. The hullabaloo was so extreme that I almost expected CPS to show up, which would have been ironic as the only person being physically abused was me. The girls got no bedtime stories, and weepily sniffed themselves to sleep (ow, my heart, it has two arrows stuck in it). Eventually Leelo calmed down with a system reset: He changed out of his jammies into his regular clothes ("Black underwear! I want the black underwear!") and we watched an episode of Panda Go Panda!. Then we went back upstairs, we changed his sheets to "The Blue Da-da-da!," put his jammies back on, and he sailed straight into dreamland.