Katy and I met John Hodgman last night. Not just “stand in line and sign my book” met; more like “be actually introduced, hand-shake and name-exchange” met. “Stand in conversational circle and be social with” met, coupled with the ultra-coolness of being in said circle while others, we shall refer to them as the Little People, stood in line to get a dorky picture and/or autograph. Oh yeah, I am in with the in crowd. At least, I am in with Bill, due in large part (okay, exclusively) to Drinking Liberally, and Bill is in with the cool kids. We also got to hear Hodgeman test out new material, and, in case you haven’t noticed, the man is fucking funny. There were a few other opening acts, including a tall poet who wasn’t half bad and I don’t really like poetry as a medium, as a rule. And, the most adorable and again not half bad teenage band, complete with tiny teenaged groupies. They were ADORABLE with their floppy hair and too coolness. I think one of the groupies was the daughter of Thurston Moore, who was also there because he lives in town. Neat, huh? You worship me just a little more, don’t you? It’s fine, go ahead, but if you could, just send cash.

xo,

T.

1. One of the guys downstairs and I always pass each other at the copier, sometimes multiple times a day. Last week I brought up an old Jerry Seinfeld stand up line, and now when we see each other we just say, “Acknowledge”, and it’s way funnier than lame small talk. Way to make a 10 year old joke fresh again, Traci!

2. The song “Lucky Star” by Madonna is in my head. Argh! Brainworm!

3. In exactly 365 days, we’ll have a new president! Woot! (well, we hope it’s all woot. Let’s not dwell on the possibility of another Republican presidency. Impossible, right? There aren’t that many stupid Americans, right? Right???) Anyway, after the parenthetical freak out, the ever lovely and genius Katy has floated the idea of an Inauguration Day scarf- knit a little bit of scrap yarn every day for the next 365, and wear it on Happy Inauguration Day. Cute, yes? Doable, yes? You are all voting, right? Please? I am starting to hyperventilate a little.

I toss my knitterly panties at you, Brooklyn Tweed.

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Me: Yikes, baby, that is a stinky poop.

She: no, Mama. That is a super secret spy poop.

Me:  …? What is it spying on?

She: The potty.

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Gmail – Images in “pics”

So hard to tell. It’s by the Wachowskis of Matrix fame, so maybe, but then there were the other Matrixes, Matrices, whatever…What Do You Think?

1. Newest affectation: tapping finger on face: “hmm, let’s figure it out” Tiny Finger Point! “I know!” (something nonsensical or television-related)
2. Went to the Mead Museum on Saturday. Lovely; Chuck Close is da bomb diggity (yes! 4 years of art school and that is my analysis! Prof would be proud.) Little Miss toodled around with us and dug on the interactive “community art” exhibit, which consisted on her scribbling in a sketchbook. That did not seem interactive enough, though. So when the whole family trooped into the permanent collection, The Girl decided it was time to see what it was like to sit in the 17th century. HH and I turned our heads towards the Rodin sculpture, and that is when I heard “creeeek”. There she was, perched atop a rickety, ancient, and highly valuable chair. I saw the guard coming down the hallway as I dashed for her; her screeches of “I wanna sit in the chaaaaiiirr!” precluded any denial of the crime.

3. The set up:The Girl plays lots of flash games on Noggin and PBS.org.

Okay, so we are in the bathroom at Luna Pizza, and she has been sitting on the potty for quite some time.
me: Okay honey, are you all done?

she: no, Mama, it’s still loading.

ha! first 21st century joke!