It was wonderful to get away for a grown-up's vacation at Sundance, away from the daily burdens of childcare and housework. Any stay-at-home parent needs a chance to get out of town and recharge every now and then, and I'm grateful to Mr. Tangerine for taking a couple days off work so I could do this (and thanks to my mom, who took Tuesday off work).
Alas, when I left for Utah, there were a few loads of clean laundry in need of folding and drawerifying. I came back from my trip recharged but exhausted (sleeping just four hours a night will do that to a girl), and facing an ever-expanding heap of dirty laundry. I washed a couple loads but still haven't started that folding, so I've got an unprecedented amount of clean and dirty laundry sitting in silent rebuke to my domestic attentiveness. Ah, fuck it. It'll get done sometime, right? In the meantime, I'm having a hard time pulling myself away from the computer (as if that's a new thing!). Why, there's Googling to be done! Is there anything new in the media about Wordplay? I must know! Would those articles be lost to history if I skipped a day of Googling? Of course not. But do I feel more compelled to fold laundry? Hell, no.
Wow, if you're still reading, you must be just as addicted to reading blogs as I am. This is strikingly dull blog fodder here.
I'm grateful to Lisa and her family for welcoming me into their home for five days. Lisa's an enviably relaxed mother to her twin sons—I don't think I heard her raise her voice once at the twin bundles of pure energy that are Max and Oliver. Lisa's hospitality extended to her PC, which gave me a chance to keep up with my e-mail while I was out of town. And luckily for all, Lisa's offer of lodging was not a ruse to sell me to the fundamentalist Mormons as a plural wife, and I did not turn out to be an axe murderer or identity thief.
One of the best aspects of my Sundance getaway was the socializing. I generally spend an awful lot of time at home, alone or with my family. At Sundance, I was with other people from the time I woke up to the time I went to bed. I hadn't spent more than a few minutes in direct (not online) conversation with anyone there before I got to Utah, and some people were entirely new to me—and yet the intercourse was free and easy. (Who doesn't love using the word intercourse in lieu of conversation?) Lisa and the members of crossword gang are all great people—intelligent, witty, and often bloggerific.
Sorry this post was so nothing-laden. I felt duty-bound to write something, but my mind is woefully depleted of snappy repartee. And repartee implies more than one person doing the talking. Help me out here, folks. Give me something to reparteeize about with you. Please?
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I can't help with the repartee because I too am Googling and Technorati-ing and searching the image sites and everything Sundance-related for new news, of which there isn't any.
Tonight we should know if "Wordplay" won any awards, but we've already won the REAL award of being acquired by IFC. And I'm wondering if we should watch a lot of CNN to see if they ever use our segment.
Do real movie stars spend so much time checking to see if their projects are mentioned? I imagine they just loll about in their mansions enjoying their swag, but since I have no mansion and got just a T-shirt, calendar and weird book as swag, I can't do that.
Let's talk about undergarments. Or specifically, whether it's gross to not wear underwear. I think a friend is rethinking our relationship in light of my recent revelation. I think thongs are more disgusting, because then the undergarment is actually rubbing right on the anus. Right? Isn't that more gross?
Mignon, do you know what sort of Google hits I'm gonna get now? Thanks. Thanks a lot. All the fans of Mormons intercourse rubbing the anus are gonna come right over here.
I think you might be spoiled for repartee with us little folk now.
Mignon, thongs don't rub on the anus! Maybe G-strings do, but regular thongs don't. They just give you a little wedgie.
First of all, I love the image of unfolded clean laundry in an attitude of "silent rebuke." So apt.
Also, the word intercourse should be used whenever possible in neutral (i.e. not sexual) contexts. When teaching, I love using words like "intercourse" and "penetrate" with a straight face and watching my students struggle to keep from laughing or exploding in inappropriate jokes.
Last, thanks in part to your encouragement/disappointment I have gone back to Oral Hygiene Queen and written an actual post. I don't know if that means I have to give back the Best Fake Blog award so generously bestowed upon me by Feral Mom.
Ellen, your quasi-swag is better than my nonexistent swag. I couldn't even bring myself to take that ripoff book from the Cinetic party—crap anti-swag seemed worse than no swag at all.
Mignon, my grandma's Polish caregiver has a high internal thermostat, so to keep cool, she goes commando and wears capri pants year round. Ever since I heard she skips underwear, though, it's all I can do to peel my eyes off her hind end, attempting to descry panty lines but never seeing any. Your friend is always gonna have to look at your butt from now on. It's the rule.
Doctormama, why do thong fans not make that fact (if it is, in fact, a fact) clear more often? Because really, those of us in the anti-thong contingent have always believed that the thong makes direct and unsavory sphincteric contact.
e., some days I find that all of life sits in silent rebuke. And don't worry about your award. You won fair and sqaure for your lack of effort in 2005. If you actually blog this year, I don't know if you have a shot at holding onto your title, though.
I didn't think that post was boring at all! Of course, there is a whole paragraph singing my praises to the heavens, but still--good stuf. (oh, and the latent I-want-to-share-my-husband-with-as-few-as-3-or-as-many-as-10-other-women drugs should be kicking in any day now...)
Lisa, if the other women will do all the laundry, sign me up.
I'm kind of a whore for celebrities... tell us who you saw?
tb, I only saw three: Morgan Spurlock and Glenn Close, both of whom I talked to, and Rachel Dratch. Four if you count puzzlemaster Will Shortz, but I don't really count him as a celebrity because I know him and he reads my crossword blog daily.
I didn't realize that we thong "fans" were falling behind (get it? behind!) in our duty to sing the praises of that undergarment. All I can say is, go buy yourself a nice stretchy, comfy one at Target and see for yourself. Or maybe I'll get you one as an extra-special present, since I feel sorry for you for not getting any good Sundance swag.
Dr. M, that would be a rather intimate gift to get from another woman. Second only to the year I got a gift certificate to a sex-toy shop for my birthday...from a friend. (Speaking of sex-toy shops, head over to Flea's blog and click the link at the top of her sidebar if you want to take advantage of the Honeysuckle Shop's Valentine's Day sale.)
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