Wednesday, January 30, 2013

OOH! I Have Discovered An Excellent New Way To Procrastinate! Or, So I'm Making A Mixtape . . . by Allison

So, I am not sure if this is the world's best procrastination attempt ever, but it might be.

No, not me writing ramblings on my VERY IMPORTANT BLOG.
That is serious business, says me.

No, not plotting the next several months of concerts to attend, with stars ranking.
That is crucial arts education, and attempt at organizing something, which is a step up from my usual organizing nothing.

No, not having dance party complete with tutus with M the seven year old stylist.
That is cardio and mommy-daughter time. Plus tutus are awesome.

Not re-reading books about Tudor England or sparkly vampires.

Am making a mixtape.

Actually, that was the original goal.
A mixtape, which of course is not actually in tape form anymore, but is still mixtape in my heart.

A mixtape for my group of childhood friends, because:
1. They are awesome
2. I am procrastinating.

And get this?
The edit button I don't have when writing?
Or talking?
Or emailing?
Or anything else I like to do instead of stuff I don't want to do?

Also nonexistent when making my mixtape.

Which kind of grew, slowly and then exponentionally, until now it is four mixtapes.

Based upon each season: Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.
I had to have some sort of grouping or theme, or else it would become The Mixtape Otherwise Known As Every Song I Like Ever.
And there are a lot of those.

And I'm having some trouble with the liner notes.
I can't just, like, name the song and band.

That doesn't explain why I picked each song for these particular group of friends, why I love it for what reason (or reasons), why it fits with the insane Seasons Theme I settled upon, and my general thoughts on each and every thing.

I do not like word limitations, and this applies to "what song is this and who sings it."  That is just the starting point of my nonsense.

I am like, 99 percent done with the song selection and season assignment.

I am like, really not at all done with the liner notes.
That are not lines, or notes.
More like, novellas in stream of consciousness style jibber jabber.

That I write late at night when it seems SUPER IMPORTANT that I do this, or when I can sneakily put on headphones and not hear the screaming/negotiating/melodrama/drums from my various children.

Is best procrastination device ever, because everybody in this house likes the eventual recipients of this (these) mixtape(s).  They are all for gifting these great people with stuff.
I am working for the good.
Am saint-like, really.

And is not a surprise to these members of my house, and probably not to the eventual recipients either,  that these mixtapes require bibliography and footnotes and essay-length analysis of invented music musings as thought up by me.

No official knowledge base other than compulsive music listening and my pretend job of Decider of What Is Awesome, Here Is Why.

And just as I delude myself into thinking that the giant wall of text email regarding the Valentine's Day party for the 1st grade will be read in its entirety by those who receive it and they are not horrified/overwhelmed/what is wrong with her? at the sight of my lack of ability to edit,
I will conjure up the
(Note: This is my conjuring, not saying it is going to happen, but I hope they lie and say it in fact happens)
delighted faces of my friends when the mailman brings out the dolly loader and wheels up the huge box containing my mixtape.

Must get back to the extremely fun procrastination invention.
I may make mixtapes for everybody I have ever met.
Sorry if it requires two delivery guys to lift them.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

You Want Me To Change? Or, Nice Try With The Mommy Loves This Song Distraction, But Still. By Allison

So, no secret that I force music upon my girls at all available moments.
We are all cool with that, or at least I am, so whatever.

And am currently so into the song "Change" by Churchill, because:

1. It is awesome, like kind of retro 60's girl band song mixed with badassery of excellent righteous indignance song plus just flat out is super good.

2. It is fab, as well.

3. I love it.

4. All of the above.

And the girls also love it, because they are smart girls or else have realized pretend agreement with me is easiest way to escape.
I say the former.
Especially M the seven year old stylist, because the song is totally in her mind giving her permission to switch up outfits ten times a day.

Attempts by me to explain that is not exactly what the song is about falls on deaf, or ignoring me, ears.
And "You can't wear the gold lame bolero jacket to the gym" gets response of "You want me to change, change, change?"

And I am torn between saying "Yes, I do want you to change, that is an absurd outfit for the gym" and rushing to iPod to play excellent song because I love it.

A conundrum.

So, gold lame bolero on the seven year old, but with most fab background music.

Because this is just excellent song and excellent band. Also I am distracted by shiny things.

Churchill's "Change," I dare you not to love it give it gold star A plus.

Friday, January 25, 2013

I'm Gonna Pop Some Tags, Only Got Twenty Dollars In My Pocket, I Wear Your Grandad's Clothes, Ode To Thrift Shops and Vintage plus Macklemore! by Allison

So for reasons such as, I am currently wearing this extra fab tan wool and leather trimmed coat with bracelet length sleeves that I am pretty sure used to be owned by Grace Kelly (or so I say, prove me wrong), and also have Macklemore and Ryan Lewis' "Thrift Shop" on repeat in my head, I am feeling like Writing An Ode.

I heart triple love thrift shops and vintage clothing stores.
There's a vintage store in my town that is so cool and has yet to do the thing that has tragically happened where vintage now means "sold for eight billion dollars on ebay."
Treasure trove, in which I obtained aforementioned beloved coat and M the seven year old stylist got her 1940's men's fedora. Is awesome.

And when I was a student and grad student, with shopping budget of negative zero minus everything, thrift shops and vintage stores were my salvation.
Need a seafoam green glittery gown for 70's party and Halloween costume as Ginger from Gilligan's Island?
 One dollar!
Beaded cashmere cardigans for almost free! This burgundy dress that was so Rita Hayworth that I wore for years as my "wedding attendee" or "other kind of fancy thing" attire? Until I somehow managed to step backwards into the skirt of it with my heel and shred it (Note: No idea how I did that, but it was bad)?
 Way more cool and all than the stuff at the mall, plus way less expensive, plus thrill of the hunt etc.

I did have to grapple once, with an older fellow, I will not call him an older gentleman since he was not a gentleman as he hit me with a coat hanger.

Backstory: City where I lived in grad school had fantastic thrift shop.
You had to hunt, feel for the good fabrics, but there were gems.
Such as the camel hair coat I found, pulled off of the rack, held up to myself, only to be told by Mean Man who was NOWHERE near that coat in any way that it was "his."

Umm, no. I have it in my hand.


Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Seriously? You are putting that on a list? What is this list? What is going on, Or, My Wily Girls Using Advanced Psychological Tools To Procure Fruits and Vegetables, by Allison

So I am a known List Avoider, mostly because I am likely to lose the list, or still forget something on the list even if I am looking at it, which is like, double negative bad. My brain is my list, so be it, sometimes it works, sometimes oops on the olive oil or whatnot.

But the girls, in their attempt to creatively engage me in wacko what in the world? lists so that I am entertained by the silly and therefore will remember the item they want (Note: brilliant, brilliant strategy, impressive for kids to come up with that, but they do have to deal with me, so maybe it is a necessary tool. Whatever its genesis, the result is, I laugh and laugh.)

New dry erase board and markers provided by me (am not ogre, just list hater, but get that that is my weird phobia and lists work for most of the known world) result in ridiculousness immediately.

E, who has ten lists going at one time already on her bulletin board (purchased by me so she is not list-deprived child regardless of her mother's deal with the hating of lists) adds Neosporin, for her earring removal and all since she just got her ears pierced for her birthday.
Which had about as many steps and plans and discussions as the Geneva Convention.
The thing I was trying to tell her is, we have like six unopened things of Neosporin because it is one of the random things I overbuy because I can't remember if we have enough, and when you need it, you need it, NOW.
Also, she can't change her earrings for six weeks, and I do not want nonsense written on that board that is for six weeks from now and we are all set on the item anyway and this is why I hate lists.

She also wants Saltines, and draws a picture of one, in case I forgot how to read.
And weather proof gloves, which is not happening since we have four billion pairs of gloves I order every year and we could outfit a school in gloves, she just wants different ones.
This again, is why I hate lists.
That is an item I'm not getting, it doesn't mean you get it when you write it down.

But yay!

M the seven year old stylist gets her turn at list board that I am going to ignore, and asks all sweetly "How do you spell zucchini?

 And I think, ha HA, Perfect Super Mommy Parenting Love Magazine! She wants zucchini. I get credit for a vegetable request, right? So tell her how to spell it.

And as I am walking out of the room, she says, "How do you spell "seriously" ?"

And I am all, "Why do you need to write the word seriously on the list thing? That is not on an aisle at the grocery. What are you doing?"

And get this: She is editorializing the list!


E is drawing pictures in case I am unable to read for some reason, and M the seven year old stylist is writing commentary?
That is awesome, totally not a list, and I will totally acquire those items for the girls based on their shrewd method of, make the list weird, Mommy will like that.

Honestly, who uses the word "seriously" on a grocery list?


M the seven year old stylist, that's who. She wants blueberries, seriously!

Friday, January 18, 2013

Thundersnow? Bogus. No School? Bogus. Snow Custard? Disgusting. Otherwise known as, I Am Worst Snow Day Person Ever, Except The Shining Dude, by Allison

So, we have snow day. 

Otherwise known as, in a Christmas Carol/It's A Wonderful Life style Allison, WHEEE!

In current life Allison, is more like "Is school out? Ug. Is it enough good snow to make snowman or snow princess (depending on which kid)?

Will that snow thingy person be melty Jabba the Hut, Wicked Witch, Mommy can't build a snow anything?

 (Note: When V was little, her first glimpse of "Mommy is really not good at this" was when I tried to make a snowman/thing with her, and I guess I forgot the caveman rules of how to roll something into a ball, so we had a blob, and I tried to decorate it with the winter camellias, but they were kind of peaked at that point, plus I had no carrot nose.
So it was slushy gross blob of melted goo with half-dead camellias, chocolate chip mouth, and radish eyes, and it looked so insane blob was pathetic enough that when Matt got home he was all
"What in the world is that monstrosity?"
And Indignant Bad Snow Sculptor But Still, You Try It When Also Wrangling Toddlers Allison was all
"Um, you get what you get and you don't pitch a fit.
Toddler law.")

Last night we had alleged "thundersnow", and I am still not buying that as a real thing.

That is like, the second backup singer for Jem, who is truly outrageous. Truly, truly, truly outrageous.

(Note: I babysat for a little girl who was all about Jem. Do not judge.)

Jem logo.jpg

Aside from totally fab/awful animated horror girl band references due to made-up ridiculous weather precipitation nonsense, snow days mean this:

Monday, January 14, 2013

What? No, Sorry, Am Busy Dancing. Or, Most Deliciously Fun I Cannot Stop With The Yay Music, by Allison

So right now I cannot stop playing this song and dancing around like lunatic (Spoiler!! But not as lunatic as the girl in the yellow jeans in the video) to Robert DeLong's song Global Concepts.

I may have been hypnotized by it and am in a trance. I'll buy that, as it is deliciously most excellent electronic/drum rave-up.  Awesome addition to add to my playlist of "What? Sorry, can't hear you, dancing right now, no, not turning it down, am busy with the joy and fun and all."

And I may or may not have (Spoiler!! I totally did) blared it really loud last night while dancing around until my children requested that I stop because they were trying to go to bed.
(Note: Don't be alarmed, do not call child protective services, it was early, they were just using that as an excuse to escape their rooms and not go to bed)

And I may or may not (Spoiler!! Totally going to) obsessively listen to this nonstop as much as I can because, it is good for me. Why? So many reasons.

To name a few:

First, dancing is cardio.

Second, dancing is fun.

Third, dancing to awesome songs is extra fun.

 Fourth, music soothes the savage beast, that is like a proven thing. (Note: savage, maybe, beast is metaphorical term here, fyi)

 Fifth, again, is excellent song. I dare you to sit still when listening to it.
 Double dare.

And finally, because I really want to and again, it is fab.

As always, I am benevolent benefactor:

Robert DeLong's "Global Concepts"

Monday, January 7, 2013

So Sold Out Means I Can't Get In? Are You Sure? Can We Work Something Out? Maybe Also I Get A Crown Or Something? More Proof I Have Superpowers, by Allison

So, I am thinking it is official that I have superpowers, in case that was still open for debate.
Latest evidence?
I submit:

1. Saturday,  Matt and I wrangle the girls to the gym's Parents' Night Out, in which the gym kindly exercises, swims, feeds, and makes our children drowsy while we do something fun.  The girls trot along, swim bags and jammies all packed, and we bolt.

2. Our first stop of fun is to lovely wine lounge otherwise known as, Really Cool Place That Agreed To Change The Name Of The Cocktail I Like Because I Did Not Like Its Original Name And I Was Vocal And Bratty About It And So It Is Now Named After Me.

 (Spoiler! This is what is known as foreshadowing, in which I hint at my eventual, meandering though very, very interesting pathway to Proof I Have Superpowers, Volume XIV.)

Is seriously fun place and I have written verification of drink name change, they made me a sign for my birthday and I saved it. 
But note: My objection was not that the original name was not named after me, I am horrible and brat but I honestly do not expect the entire world to cater to my every whim or march to tune of All About Allison.

 (Or Do I???? More foreshadowing, I am literary scholar here)

My issue with drink name was that the original name was a bad name I did not like and found derivative and lame.
And guess what?
I garner more vocabulary words and adjectives as evening goes on, until after maybe my third visit in which I consume lovely beverage while decrying its awful name, it is agreed upon/I am so tedious they give up, and new name!
And yay, sure, I am the one who fought the good fight, like  Karen Silkwood or Norma Rae or other 1970's movies ladies with terrible hair protesting radiation poisoning or unfair labor laws, except not any of that at all, but still, if name suggestions are asked for, I have some thoughts.

3. We next venture down to movie theater to see Les Miserables. I am super excited, because I am triple extra geeky fan.

Who cries like a lunatic every time anything Les Miz gets within ten miles of me, starting with seeing the musical on Broadway in early teenage girl wearing bad velvet dress era.

Is family lore, The Time Allison Had Meltdown At Les Miserables And Embarrassed Us All.

Matt has been warned, both by family anecdotal history, me agreeing with said history, and me crying over the recent Entertainment Weekly issue that had a picture in it of Anne Hathway/Fantine looking like bad stuff was happening to her.
(Spoiler: Very bad stuff, and I cried.)
So yay! Super fun tear fest hours long sobbing adventure ahead!

4. But when we get to the theater, the movie is sold out.
The guy says so, to Matt.

I choose to disagree.
 I was all, "No, no it is not sold out."

I have no idea why I thought that was a course of action that would lead to the movie magically becoming NOT sold out, but somehow I was very, very certain, or at least, really, really wanted to see the movie and therefore was focusing very hard to remember Jedi Mind Tricks even though I have not actually ever watched any of the Star Wars movies in their entirety and only know "this is not the droid you are looking for" or whatever by osmosis.

5. I peek around Matt's shoulder to discuss the issue with Ticket Guy.
 I tell him it is not sold out.

Matt is trying to drag me away, like he did at The Avengers when I started being awful because the costumes were silly.

But I was ready to see this movie.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Awful or Awesome, Pop Quiz, Extreme Edition, by Allison

So, my recent six weeks or so has been a very widely-veering series of experiences that were either Super Fantastic Awesome or You Have Got To Be Kidding Me Awful.

For the easiest quiz in the known world, I present the following:

Awful or Awesome?:

1. Stupid yuk dentist-surgery type thing being lame and painful and unfun and RUINING my planned five concert week of fun music with Matt and friends:

Answer: Awful.

Like, capital A awful. I do not like to be in pain, physically or emotionally.

(Note: Missing all those excellent shows HURT. Matt took time off from the hospital! I love those bands! Was going to see fun friends too! Instead, the total opposite involving NO concerts, NO fun friends)

And as aperitif of Awful, having to bicker during prep for yuk surgery type stuff that the music piped in was offending me, both as a music freak and a person about to be messed with surgically.
Because I do not lie, “Cuts Like A Knife?” , “Hurts So Good,” “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”, “Wanted: Dead or Alive” and a Meatloaf song that was not gore involving but I do not care for his theatrics?

While removing the non-working laughing gas mask (more on that in a minute) I politely (ish) pointed out that pain songs were a bit of overkill in this situation, and please can I have my iPod back, this is horrible pre-yuk stuff music PLUS, this laughing gas is not working.

I know it is not working, I am not laughing at all, and the thing going on involving harvesting is NOT fun adventure in autumn with crisp leaves.
I would like my iPod and working meds now.

Apparently, my approach of music complaints and drug seeking was not working, and as I write this, it sounds WAY worse, I was only asking for them to turn the laughing gas tank on.
It was not on, as I was not laughing, giggling, festive in any way.

Also the music was pointedly poor form.

And FINALLY, after they got sick of me complaining about music (Note: that is not all that rare of an thing, I know) and telling them to turn the wheel on the laughing gas tank or push a switch or whatever, the technician goes, “Huh, you’re right. This wasn’t even on.”


So Matt gets report in waiting room that his wife is bitching about the music and asking for pain meds. I am sure his response was, “Yes, that sounds about right.”
So, Awful.