Archive for August, 2008

an exercise in futility

Just tried to pump while reading The Night of The Gun by David Carr. Which I can only imagine is like trying to masturbate while in church – unless of course you’re into that kind of thing. The book is getting a lot of great press and deservedly so. It was written by a friend […]

chew toys and demerol

We’re driving back to the Lewis’ house from Reno after seeing Neko Case at 11:30pm and the kid is OVER it. We drove up to Truckee around 4pm got to their house, fed and changed him and hit the road again to get to the show. Tari brought an awesome picnic, only half of which […]

the ultimate vaccuum of time

I just joined facebook because I decided that I was doing too much bon-bon-eating and needed something productive to do with my days. Listening: Of Montreal (the only band of Marc’s disco-shit-collection that I enjoy)

fair trade

Apparently the deal is we get a weekend of angel-doll-baby who will enjoy live music, friends, beer and walking all over the city with us in exchange for bloody-murder-screaming, raiser-of-hell all day Monday. The kid is exhausted and won’t sleep for more than a half hour today. But, I must say – it was such […]

for the love of music

We went to Outside Lands this weekend. I’ll try to write something poignant about the three of us attending a music festival in the middle of Golden Gate Park, but, for now: Listening: MGMT

happy birthday dad

Dear dad, In lieu of a gift this year – because let’s face it, one really should shower and brush ones hair in order to go outside of the house to shop – I’ve decided to write you a letter. And post it on the internet for you and all of the world (or the […]

jogging the memory

While visiting the Chows this past weekend and getting to meet Dylan for the first time I was astounded at my inability to remember Harrison at that size. At two weeks old Dylan is the size of the newly-born Harrison. And he is TINY! TEENY-TINY! Just a little ball of baby. (The perspective here doesn’t […]

bath time

Knowing our disdain for many typical-baby-type-items – the cutesy, pastel puppies, honey-bears and duckies – Aunty Margaret gave the kid a beautiful new bath towel: Yes, technically it is a duck, however, this is no “duckie”. This is a grown-up, big-boy, dark-colored, honest-to-goodness mallard. Thank you Aunty Margaret! Listening: Bon Iver


score: 121 As a 1930s husband, I am Very Superior Take the test! Very Superior, that is. Marc just took the test and fared quite a bit better than his failure of a wife. Apparently he is the Cary Grant to my Phyllis Diller. Listening: Stars (in honor of Outside Lands – where we will […]


score: 18 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test! I have to admit, while taking the test I actually thought I was going to rank pretty well; and was starting to get worried that I would be an “Average” or even “Superior” 1930′s housewife. But, alas, I am a failure. […]