South by So Freaking Tired

Dood, it's been like a week and a half, and finally NOW I feel recovered from SXSW. What were the highlights?? Well, I really dug seeing all the Chicken Ranch bands (not to be shamelessly promoting Mike's label or anything). It was the first time I got to see the Clutters and the Yuppie Pricks. I got to hang out with friends, eat some good tacos, and I saw Bushwick Bill and his posse. Talk about some mean-lookin girls! Damn!

Since then, Mike and I have been laying low with the kiddos at home. My folks came to visit for Easter and meet the kiddos, see some soccer games, you know. It was totally awesome! Some major family time warm fuzzy feelings!

Now I'm really trying to kick ass at work. I started doing deep tissue massage back in January, and am now at the point where I can make people squirm if I want to. Who would have thunk it, I'm super fucking strong.

Screw Amy Winehouse!

Yeah, I'll be the first to admit that when I heard Amy Winehouse pouring over the speakers at my shitty retail job last spring I was pretty impressed. I hadn't heard anyone paying tribute to that old motown sound before, AND she was talking about drinking and screwing around and other fun bad-girl type stuff! Who wouldn't love that? And even after that, when she was becoming the adorable train wreck that she is, I was still on her side. I even felt a little bad for her in that fame-makes-some-folks-go-crazy kind of way. But now? I have heard the woman who could kick her ass any day of the week. The woman Mike D describes as "a sassy black woman." And the woman who has been doing what Amy Winehouse is attempting to do without the poppy-sweet dance beats and lame rap stars: Sharon Jones. Honestly, I know very little about Sharon Jones or the Dap Kings she plays with. All I do know is that on a rainy cold and generally crap-ass day such as yesterday, her cd Naturally put me in a fantastic mood. The kind of mood that I once thought I could only get after watching a Pam Grier movie. She is the real deal. And instead of faking it with dreadlocked bee hive, cleopatra eyes, and bad teeth (damn!); Sharon Jones is living it, making all those mistakes we wanna hear about with a full horn section backing her up. So for now, the Amy Winehouse cd is going back on the shelf only to be taken out some day long from now when I remember her antics and hairstyle more than the music she tried to make.

I am Babycakes

Nalyd's brother started working for this website, superdeluxe.com a few months ago and he kept on bringing up how funny it was. His brother worked on a show called The Maria Bamford Show which is booty-ass hilarious. Especially when she prank calls her mother in the voice of the baby Jesus. But to be perfectly honest, I'm overwhelmed by these other shows created by this fella Brad Neely. He does two shows: The Professor Brothers and I am Babycakes. They are fucking brilliant. Anyone who reads this blog must check them out, but be warned.....I am Babycakes is not going to dazzle you right off the bat. It will slowly seep into your pores late at night until you wake up one morning singing "Be Aggressive" or have the strange desire to have Boobie Bunny tattooed on your buttcheek.

Well.......

at least when I fall off the blogging earth I do it for long enough for people to take notice! Shit, what can I tell you? I spent most of January lazing around, getting trained for my new massage job. Spent February bouncing between two jobs for long enough to get really sick. And now, the same virus has invaded my home again, and attacked Mike's kiddos.

Let me tell you there is nothing worse than a sick child. Lots of Mom-Party-Wine drinking, Cathy-cartoon reading gals will say that sick men are the worst, but that's never been my experience. Nothing is more hellish than a booger-wielding, feverish kid who is sneezing and coughing all over you never once covering their mouth to shield you from their kidgerms. I have spent the last two days picking up kleenexes off of the floor of every room in the house, trying to get spaghettio vomit out of the kitchen sink, keeping track of everyone's medication time, (which reminds me....it's about time for some medication for my own self in the form of big ass glasses of wine!) and trying not to pray for an antibacterial bomb to be dropped on our house. Although the idea of antibacterial fallout intrigues me.

Stay tuned dear readers, cause next week Mike and I trade in the kiddos for musicians who like beer. We'll be rocking out for sxsw, and I will try to remember enough details to type into a semi-interesting tidbit.