Category Archives: artsy stuff

I think Liebster was a war hero or something…

I got a nice note last night saying that I (my words, to be more accurate) were named a Liebster Blog by Domestic Goddess In Training. She is a fellow mom trying to make her way in the world, only she’s probably better at it because it looks like she actually does stuff with her kids. Thanks, Goddess!

Anyway, the Liebster Blog award is a nice way for bloggers to celebrate and promote small blogs that they feel should get more notice. Last night, I tried to trace the idea of the Liebster award back to the beginning to figure out where this came from. It was a bit of a worm-hole. I spent so many hours searching, linking back, and googling that I got a bit lost. The best I can decipher is that Liebster was a soldier during the German War of Liberation. In 1813 he thought that the soldiers trying to oust France from their homeland needed a little levity and a way to connect across the miles between encampments. He dreamed up blogging, but due to an inexcusable dearth of imagination and know-how, he was unable to invent  electricity, computers and the internet. At least that year.

Instead he invented chain letters, which are being reinvented here. I’m not usually one to remember to follow up on chain letters, but this is a good chain letter – like passing on stickers or recipes – and not a bad chain letter – the ones that ask for money or naked pictures. I bet there are those. Don’t say there aren’t, you don’t know.

So the idea is that you are supposed to link back to the person who nominated you, then nominate 3 to 5 more small blogs that you enjoy (difficult to gauge how many followers they have, so we use our judgement). You’re also supposed to state the rules of the award. So that’s what I just did. Oh, and also, you’re supposed to insert this cute little image here.

Liebster blog logo of awkward love

Here are the blogs I’m nominating. And to break with a little tradition here, I’m going to give the blogs and out and say that if they don’t continue the chain letter within 3 days… NOTHING BAD WILL HAPPEN!

1) Yoonanimous – fashion, family other good stuff. She’s a friend, too, so I root for her, though I disagree with the idea that we all can wear high waisted pants.

2) Liquorstore Bear – because who doesn’t want to read their boozy horoscope as predicted by a beer-soaked bear.

3) London Drawings – I like the illustrations, the humor (or humour) and drawings. A little hard to see on a mobile device. The “history” post is awesome.

4) Year-struck – fabulous writer. She is the teacher I wish I had.
More instructions: Read all of these bloggers. Follow them. Smile.

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I Love Your Eyeballs. And Fire.

Last night, Z sweetly professed his love for me. At least that’s what I chose to hear. Now, with the perspective of time, I’m wondering if it might have been a warning that certain body parts are the only thing between me and a puncture wound. He delivered the love morsel via the following unintentional haiku:
Looking a little tired, but still not stabbable.
I love your eyeballs.
I love your tongue and your hair.
I will NOT stab you.
Fitting, as SJS is now going to a Japanese immersion school. His accidental poem inspired the following, also in haiku. These are actual phrases uttered by my kids. They needed a little poetic adaptation to fit the form, but not much.
Lookit! Lookit dis!
I need to show you dis! Cool!
It came from my nose.
(Get a tissue. And if you don’t stop, you’re going to get your finger stuck up there.)
Have you ever seen
a guy with a face on fire?
That would be cool.
(This is from a kid who says he wants to be a “flamer guy” when he grows up. Whatever makes you happy, dude.)
And one from SJS,
Shoes worth begging for.
I need those new shoes.
Please! I only have 4 pairs.
Well, you have a lot.
(Touche)
And finally, me,
No, no! I said truck!
You must have heard me wrong.
I’m sure I said truck.
(I don’t think I need to explain myself. We’ve all been there.)
Do you have any of your own?

Sing It To My Face!

I really like musicals. I like the drama and the costumes, the dancing, the lights and music. I like imagining I have that level of talent. Most of the time it’s good old escapism for an evening. But sometimes I can’t overlook that corny thing that pulls me out of the moment. It’s when I look at the actors on stage and think: that would never happen.

The same thing occurred last night when I went to see In The Heights at Keller. It is inevitable that two people in a musical or opera will end up singing into each other’s faces. This usually involves the woman holding the man’s face, then the man grabbing her hands and pulling the two of them close with their hands grasped between their heaving chests. About half the time one or the other throws their hands away and walks in a dramatic circle around their portion of the stage. The only exceptions are Rent (because the characters are sometimes two men, but really, they do the same thing) and Avenue Q (because they’re puppets).

I could be a director of one of these things.

Could you imagine if we did that to communicate with our partners? That would never happen. Although, I think it would actually be an effective way to get your point across. Especially with men who are not great at reading emotions. You’re upset that he hasn’t been helping with the housework or needs to spend more one-on-one time with the kids? Sing it to his face! Loud! Want more attention while she’s watching Project Runway? Grab her hands and make puppydog eyes while you sing!

God, that would get old fast.

So while I was watching Benny and Nina (Arielle Jacobs, who has a fabulous voice) sing into each other’s mouths, it sort of distracted from the story. It’s a bit formulaic, because Daddy never thinks anyone is good enough for his daughter. Otherwise it’s really good and I shouldn’t get pulled out of it over staging. If you’re not familiar with In The Heights – and you’re already forgiven if you don’t know of it – the you should know that I may be being a bit harsh on it. It won a bunch of Tonys in 2008.

I just think that sometimes directors should make these people a little more real. I mean, even when John and I were falling in love we didn’t do anything like that. How about staging it the way real people live* life. Like lounging at opposite ends of the couch. Or standing in the kitchen talking while secretly wondering who is going to bend and do the dishes first. And not singing.

I guess that wouldn’t work after all.

*Please note: apparently there is an exception to this singing into each other’s faces thing. Apparently it IS the norm in Finlandto do it. I don’t know. I’ve never been.