Science Un-Fair
May 1st, 2007Over the last week, these chemistries have conspired to make me insane:
[1] my usual cocktail of moodiness
[2] migraines
[3] the moon
I hide it well in the company of others, other than Stevel. (It seems only fair that if I’m going to have to have his tender skin in my face all the time—taunting me, taunting my collection of Lotion bottles—he should have to tolerate something equally difficult to endure.)
I have eaten the traditional medicinal chocolate. I am eating it right now.
I have been listening to PB&J:
“And the question is, was I more alive
then than I am now?
I happily have to disagree;
I laugh more often now, I cry more often now,
I am more me.”
You should too:
Objects of My Affection
Young Folks
Amsterdam Lyrics
The whistling is cool, no? My grandma taught me to whistle (same grandma with the bargains and the organizey drawers). We are outie whistlers. Innie whistlers seem to do better, overall, but my grandma can whistle like a champ. I did not inherit the family’s musical talents. Or the curves. But I have the best vision.
Can you whistle? Are you any good?
May 1st, 2007 at 9:59 pm
You like the whistling? I need to send you Andrew Bird. Damn me for not remembering. Here’s a live clip from Letterman: http://youtube.com/watch?v=ktxy7ikUKjM
May 1st, 2007 at 11:22 pm
LOL! Cindy, you read my mind. Andrew Bird is a whistler extraordinaire.
May 2nd, 2007 at 2:10 pm
My Grandad taught me to whistle one afternoon while I was sick and had to stay inside while everyone else got to go outside and play. He spent hours with me, reading me books and playing games and teaching me how to pucker my lips so that sound would come out. I remember it very well because it was one of the only times that I ever spent one-on-one time with him.
May 4th, 2007 at 10:01 am
My Dad could always whistle and it would drive me nuts. He would demonstrate and instruct, and I just couldn’t do it. I remember I would always practice and then one day, just as I stepped onto the landing halfway up the stairs I did it. I ran around the house yelling and demonstrating…it was great! Life was good until I learned to play the flute in highschool. Once I perfected my embouchure (after for the longest time, whistling into it), I completely lost the ability to whistle. I’m quite sure I wouldn’t be able to carry a tune on my flute these days (where is that thing anyway?) but I can’t whistle either. So sad!