Sunday, July 22, 2007

Son, you got a panty on your head.

Today I basically just ate granola all day. One of the things I truly enjoy about being a grownup is indulging my own dietary whims. Probably I talk about it too much (see previous post re: ice cream for dinner), but there are so many other things about being a grownup that I do not enjoy; I figure I'm entitled to a day's worth of granola and a few sentences of food commentary.

One fun thing I did this weekend is figure out my net worth, after hearing Boston Gal on Marketplace Money the other day. Do you know about this woman? She's an "open wallet," a personal finance blogger who charts her net worth monthly and shares it with the internets. I've been tracking my income for awhile as a matter of freelancey necessity, but have never baldly regarded my assets next to my liabilities. Thanks to my private college (that I will never ever regret attending), my liabilities still outweigh my assets, but not as much as I might have imagined. I mean, I'm currently worth more dead than alive, but still: there is something a little bit reassuring about seeing it all spreadsheeted up and thinking about how next month I will have chipped away at the debt a bit more. I recommend the exercise.

Of course, next month I will be experiencing the financial fallout of international travel, so maybe the spreadsheet will cease to reassure at that point. We leave for England on Wednesday evening. The Brit's sister is getting married, and and we are having a little vay-cay-cay. It will involve hiking and camping, and also swanky wedding accommodations and stays with the family, and hopefully some thrift-shopping (I am collecting recommendations). I'll be blogging at you from the UK, never you fear.

Opera camp wrapped up on Friday. It was fabulous. The kids did two performances of the scenes they'd been working on, and just tore it up. Watching them work was a slightly complicated source of joy--complicated only by my nostalgia for that type of innocent discovery. I don't mean innocent in the condescending or proto-sexual way; I mean like they don't have a clue what it takes to be a practitioner of this art form, but they are learning RIGHT THIS MINUTE and are choosing to do this thing, some even paying for it themselves. And you watch and listen and think about their broad uncharted futures and get sort of wistful, even if you yourself had a lot of great opportunities as a kid.

But then on the other hand you now get to spend your days eating nothing but granola if you wish, so really you should get over yourself.

That would be a great full-circle post-closing sentence, except that I forgot to report a few other things:
1. I watched RIZE and yes, it was amazing, and yes, Bring It On: All Or Nothing makes a mockery of krumping (but I knew this). I also enjoyed that it's possible to get "krumpness" or to be "krump," though I realize I will achieve/be neither.
2. I had my last hip-hop class and was significantly more coordinated than before. I also started demonstrating my moves to the opera camp crew. Holla!
3. My brother was in the hospital for three days with a skin infection. I think he's okay, but he was rather f-ed up, thanks to an ongoing resurgence of childhood eczema. When he was a baby, my mom made little paws to attach to his jammies, so he wouldn't scratch himself silly in his sleep. Maybe I should send him some paws. They would be the size of your head.
4. I saw a bald eagle flying over a mall parking lot.
5. I slipped in water, ran into a wall, and have fat mustardy bruises on my right arm. On the plus side, the ice pack they gave me at the opera felt like a weighty dong once it had warmed up, and the best part about it is that everyone I slapped with the ice pack instantly knew EXACTLY what I was trying to convey, which was: dong-slap.


  1. I know Dom regrets being in Italy and missing that dong-slap.

  2. I can't really beat dong-slap, but I wanted to say hi any way.