Little of this, little of that

Just not sure what to post. Thoughts of the utter devastation in Haiti, our relative insulation from it, parallels to New Orleans, venom toward those who would imply that anyone on this earth deserves a catastrophic disaster, impotence to help, fear for my family’s long term safety, guilt at that selfishness, and so on circle through my day.

I could post a response to someone else’s blog. But I feel uninspired to do so.

I could post a list of things I’m not doing but should be. Meh. That’d bore me even more than it would you.

I could write about how Peanut seems to have turned the corner on the three-year-old phase-from-hell, only 10 months into his fourth year on this planet. There, though, I risk jinxing this week’s reasonable behavior, as well as underreporting just how methodically and soul-deadeningly awful the first 10 months after his third birthday were.

I could detail preschool happenings or University library shenanigans or domestic frustrations or my debate over whether to participate in the Bolano 2666 read coming up.

I could vent frustrations that arise anytime I mingle with humanity, the bulk of which is really quite irksome.

Or I could go to bed early since Spouse is at a party and I’ll be damned if I do dishes while he interacts with both adults and fermented hops.

14 thoughts on “Little of this, little of that

  1. Thanks for being so truthful. Its really hard to be inspired when so much pure pain and anguish is banging at your phyche. But good for you for going to bed early! Hoooray for sleeping Mommies!

  2. It’s hard to come up with anything valuable to say about Haiti, isn’t it? With something so unfathomably awful, it rather beggars commentary.

    On the 2666 front, I’ll do it if you do. But I will totally forgive both of us if we decide we have other books we’d rather read and other ways we’d rather spend our time. Because I’m generous like that.

  3. Going to bed early instead of doing dishes while the husband is out partying= a smart woman. I knew I liked you. Just one more reason!

  4. I wish I had gone to bed early. Stayed up late doing stupid things. Dan, that settles it…I’ll 2666 with you. Bucher is, and Evenshine posted an intriguing quote last month that made me want to try. I just started Don Quixote, but I guess that can wait. And as predicted, mentioning the week’s pleasant offspring reactions made today a living hell the likes of which no mortal should have to endure. I was hit, bit, and may go hoarse from screaming. I’m sure it has nothing to do with a late night, stress, or hormones. It’s all bloggy jinx.

  5. I like posts like these – I don’t feel so alone remembering my uninspired moments. And I love the line ” I’ll be damned if I do dishes while he interacts with both adults and fermented hops.” Perfect!

  6. Bluffing?! Me? Ha, ha. Never.

    Anyhoodle, have now purchased my very own copy of 2666. Must hurry up and finish Sacred Games. Will defer Changing My Mind (by Zadie Smith) for another time.

  7. There is nothing wrong with not wanting to say anything…sometimes that is when we hear the most. At least for me. Curl up and take care of yourself, trust me, you are going to be glad you did as you look back on it in just a few months. :)

    • Mmmm, jc, it didn’t even occur to me to have tasty frozen treats while reading Don Quixote. Ink, Spouse doesn’t understand why I laugh out loud at that book…maybe it’s just the translation, but that books slays me. There’s no Dairy Queen anywhere near me, jc, so I’m gonna have to stick with Ben & Jerry’s and Cervantes. Wish it were Cuervo and Cervantes, but alas.
      Oh, Dan I’m excited. All my local booksellers are out so I have to order from the evil empire. It’s worth it, though. Now I want to read the Zadie Smith next, too. And if we both bail a few months in, 2666 will look good on the shelf of “I’ll get to it soon.” That’s where all poetry lives.
      Gibby, I hear ya. I agree. But I have to get an agent for this novel and edit for three clients and run the preschool fundraiser and finish two articles to submit before I hit 38 weeks and run out of steam.
      Jane, I’m happy to do my share (or more than my share) when I feel everyone is contributing. But if he gets the night off, I do, too.

  8. That book slays me too. Because it’s one of the freakin’ funniest books ever. I swear, the first time I read it, I thought someone was playing a trick on me. I thought maybe, just maybe, someone had put an unpublished William Goldman novel between the covers. Doesn’t it remind you of Princess Bride?

    I’m always wondering how DQ was one of the very first novels and was so witty and delightful and intelligent…and *then* came all the early English novels which were anything but? Did they not understand that a novel could rock?

    • Ink, I was *totally* thinking that it sounded Goldmanesque. And now that I’ve gotten this far into Cervantes, I’m wishing he were still around to write for Hollywood. What he could have done to Good Will Hunting…
      I really can’t believe this novel is 400 years old. And I thank heavens I pulled the edition that cut most of the interlude Canterbury Tales schtick Cervantes putt in out of fear that his new form wouldn’t fly.
      The English can f— up just about anything, Inky. Literature, food, other countries. The list is long and distinguished.

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