Friend Adam and I have started an mp3 blog called The Square Tracks. I would love it if folks checked it out. Free music! Come on, I know you want some.
I've listened to a lot of pundits talk about the Libby indictment today on CNBC (CNBC is the only channel that's ever on in the office) and NPR, and, what the fuck? All of them have basically pronounced this a non-story. I would love to link to examples of this, but I'm not sure where to go since on NPR it was the live coverage and CNBC is TV, you know. One example I remember pretty clearly, from NPR, basically went something like this: "No one knew who Libby was before this investigation, and after Bush nominates the next Supreme Court justice, everyone will have forgotten about this."

Thankfully, after this idiot, Nina Totenburg (sp?) was asked to comment, and she said the only intelligent thing I've heard anyone say about the indictment all day. To paraphrase, she said that there are two possibilities as to how this will play out:

1. Libby cops a plea and incriminates more people in the White House. Ms. Totenburg didn't take this any further, but obviously, if this happens it will most likely be a MAJOR shitstorm for the White House.

2. It goes to court. Unless Libby pleads guilty and is comfortable with going to jail for his scumbag bosses, I would assume that he will try to portray himself as carrying out the will of others. Again, shitstorm.

Not a big deal for the Bush administration? Who are these people and can someone please explain to them that an indictment doesn't mean everything is over and we can all go home and sing Kum Ba Yah. Five counts folks. Shit is not even close to over.


I know 25 isn't very old at all, but damn I felt old yesterday when "Wonderwall" by Oasis popped up on the ol' mp3 player set to random yesterday, and I felt really touched by it. This is really hard for me to own up to, that I seriously was fucking feeling "Wonderwall". (Right now you're reading some straight up "blog as therapy" shit.) It only makes sense, I loved "Wonderwall" when it came out. But I was 15 then, at that point I had only reached the foothills of Mt. Music Snob. I think (hope?) I reached the peak 4 years ago or so. I guess this is a sign of my progress in my descent.

Did I mention I love random playlist listening? Because I do.
Okay, so the tube-socks-as-kiddie-legwarmers idea? Somebody's on it already.


The Strongest Bladder the World Has Ever Seen

So, the last few weeks, we have started to get serious about potty training the boy. I asked Nate to do a little research on methods we might employ. He did a google search, and the page that popped up first was the one we decided to go with. I thought it looked easy enough, and I liked that the instructions were simple but very clear.

We are in week 3, wherein we leave Simon's pants and diaper off for a period of time every day. I have stretched it each day. First 45 minutes, then 1.5 hours, and today over 2 hours. The idea is that you will tell him to go in the potty if he has to go, then leave him to play. Accidents are expected, and can be helpful incentive for him to go to the potty next time, as most people do not enjoy the feeling of their own urine running down their legs.

After only 3 days, I'm starting to grow doubtful of this method. We haven't had any successes, and we haven't had any accidents. I was all ready to be sopping up piss with a towel..... but, no. Nothing.

Simon, I think, must have an astoundingly strong bladder. I know he had to pee for at least an hour this morning. How do I know, you ask? Well, he downed two sippy cups full of soymilk. Later, he started frantically begging me to put a diaper on him. I encouraged him to sit on the potty instead. (He cooperated with this suggestion, but retained an iron-grip on his bladder.) Another clue that he he needed to pee was.... well, not to get too personal, but there is a physiological clue to mommies of boys. Basically, his little penis sticks out like a miniature balloon animal, looking painfully full and ready to burst. But Simon would not let it go.

So... I don't know about this method. I don't think he's ever going to go as long as he is pantless. Maybe we'll move to undies. If he could feel something next to the skin of his nether regions, he could relax enough to go. But he could feel the yucky wetness too. I swear, this potty training business seems so cruel sometimes.

Speaking of cruel, here is a potty training pic which someday Simon might hate me for showing to the world. But I include it to demonstrate my efforts to make the process less cruel. See, in the pants-off method we were using, I worried about his little legs being cold. A pair of daddy's tube socks, pulled up mid-thigh, and presto! Instant leg-warmers. Someone could market them for this purpose, I swear.


Naming your children is hard.


We were in the hometown area over the weekend. Laura and I went for a walk yesterday morning around my old neighborhood which I really enjoyed... until we came upon a giant helicopter, suspended above the air, right on the edge of a park that is the setting of many of my favorite memories from my childhood/adolesence. The helicopter is a monument to... itself. The plaque in front of it bears the history of that particular kind of helicopter. Again, for emphasis: This is a monument to A WEAPON. Not soldiers. Not a particular battle or war. What a fucking bummer. You can't go home again, at least not without seeing a scary as shit helicopter looming over one of your favorite spots.


Looking at my positive pregnancy test this morning, a flood of emotions washed over me. These emotions varied greatly from what I felt the last time I discovered I was pregnant, when I was 20, single, and still reeling from having committed the gravest of sins --- giving away my virginity, to a non-Christian heathen, nonetheless. Allow me to illustrate the difference:

Last Time:

This Time:

Painfully obvious conclusion: When it comes to pregnancy, a committed relationship, a stable home, and a faith based on love rather than guilt can make a pretty significant difference.


I'm a Glutton for Punishment...

in the form of long science books. Just finished Gödel, Escher, Bach a few days ago, and today I picked up The Singularity is Near by Ray Kurzweil. It's a little bit shorter, and I'm hoping the concepts will be more intuitive than those in GEB. If you don't know about the concept of "the Singularity", you should check it out here. My current interest is one of curious skeptic, which is why I picked up the book. I read a few pages on the train today. So far everything seems to be making sense. It's that chapter about reverse engineering the human brain that has my bullshit detector itching to scan over it.

P.S. I find it really funny that Sudoku books are on the bestseller shelves at Border's. Seeing 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America up there gave me a chuckle too, but in a sorta depressing way. Al Franken is number 37, you know.

The Pee Stick.

My little boy is rounding the corner to three years old. As he grows, it prompts us to think about how we will add to our family. In my mind, adoption was the best option for two reasons:

1. The whole altruistic, beautiful, noble aspect of it. We have love and stability, and could give those things to a child in need.
2. The whole non-childbearing aspect of it. Labor was amazing in some ways, but awful in many others. Yeah, and not just labor, but pregnancy. Pregnancy, people. It does crazy things to your body.

So, adoption had been foremost in my mind, especially for the past 2 or 3 months, as I felt increasing pressure to somehow obtain a sibling for my son. I made phone calls to agencies. I had tea with a virtual stranger from my church so she could tell me about her experience adopting. I felt so sure of this course that I was willing to share our plans with many of our friends and family.

Still, I had a nagging voice( both psychological and biological, it seemed) telling me I might want to have another baby. I was so fixated on adoption, though, that I ignored this voice. Or, more accurately, I snapped at it to 'shut up!' The process of adoption is not without its own difficulties, and I believed that wanting to procreate again was sheer selfishness on my part. Too lazy to do all the paper work and jump through all the hoops, too impatient to wait an unspecified period of time before another child would live with us.

It took a conversation with a friend to see the error in my thinking. I guess in what was a throwback to my days as an evangelical, I had taken on a little too much responsibility to, you know, save the world. Just because I had considered adoption did not obligate me to pursue it right now. And wanting to carry another baby did not make me selfish, lazy, or impatient. After several months of single-mindedly focusing on adoption, I slowly became comfortable with changing my mind. I decided to listen to my heart and my body. I still think adoption is an amazing possibility, one I hope to explore with my family a few years down the road.

But, right now, I want to be pregnant again. So I talked with Nate. We discussed it shortly. We decided to try. Then we tried. And now we are........

WAITING. I am single-handedly keeping Scantibodies Laboratory, makers of First Response preggers test in business, I think. I keep taking these damn tests even though it is too early to tell. So, maybe not selfish and lazy, but impatient... yes. Certainly impatient.

Note to Self

Do not bring a bowl of pistachios to the computer with the intention of snacking on them as you write a blog entry. Your fingers will be busy searching for little green nuggets of fatty goodness. You will not be able to stop; therefore, you will not be able to type.



Me: Why do you think Bush's approval ratings have gotten so low?
My Dad: Well Nate, what's there to to approve of?
Today I hit 25 on the Age-O-Meter. Set up the wireless router I got for my b-day last night, so now I can blog from the men's room. Tonight I'm DJing with the Almighty Scrabblor at Skylark, which is at S. Halsted and Cermak. 9pm-2am, if you're in the Chi you should come check for at least a bit. There's a rumor that Ice Cream Truck DJs from LA are going to show up and do their thing.


Gödel, Escher, Bach is a 750 page beast, and I'm almost done. It's a fantastic book, but goddamn, let's finish it already. I feel like I've been reading it for eternity.
Yesterday, I woke up alone, with a shitty old computer and a dial-up internet connection. Today, I woke up with my two most loved ones in the house, a shiny new laptop, and DSL. What a difference a day makes.


If anyone wants a comprehensive explanation of the previous post, just read this. And I'd like to add that up to the point of illness, I had a really fantastic time, and if someone could tell Liz that it was a pleasure to meet her I would be greatful. And CT, thank you again for your help with my duties at WAUCC.


I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize for the events of the night of the twenty-third. I am not accustomed to drinking alcohol.


Speaking of main dameys, my real main dameys, Smiles and L-train, left yesterday to go visit the great-grandmother. And they'll be gone for FIVE DAYS. That's a long ass time. Thus the increase in posts. Also, remember that while you're reading these, I'm drunk and weeping on my keyboard as I wait for them to come back. You know, metaphorically.
I ordered a new laptop 1 1/2 weeks ago, and they finished building it and it was shipped yesterday. It was built in China. How long does it take to ship something from China? If I remember right, they said it will be 5 business days at most.
This is really great news, because this computer is FUCKING BROKE. It works probably 40% of the time. The other 60% is spent rebooting, slowly grinding to a halt, and otherwise fucking up your shit. And anyone who knows me knows that my computer is, as Neiman Marxist MZ Snokilla would say, my main damey (sp?). Mr. Postman, bring me a dream!


If you don't know, you should: I heart dj /rupture. This post on his Mudd Up! blog is particularly great: DJ RUPTURE'S 10-STEP GUIDE TO SELLING OUT. It deserves to be read, but the gist is that /rupture has no problem with getting paid, regardless of the source. I have to agree. Money=food, more/better recording equipment, and maybe even some savings. I think those that bitch about selling out usually take these things for granted. Also, the quote in the post, from another blog's comments, "Would anybody be upset if UGK was used to promote a new Chevy Impala? No, fools would be like 'golly gosh this is so cool! I LOVE that southern rap is getting the attention it deserves!!'" is a great point. If I ever get a call from the man talking $, there's almost no question what my reply is. And to anyone who has beef, my reply is the words of Kanye. "Fuck you, pay me."
The hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church has published a teaching document instructing the faithful that some parts of the Bible are not actually true.
While this should be obvious to most, in evangelical America a statement like this is a revelation. Too bad about all that required chastity, gay hating, etc.
It still surprises me that my ears still perk up when there's news about the church. Mostly, it amazes me that so many people who don't agree at all with the church are able to remain members, e.g. my parents. Whenver the church lets out one of their more rediculous decrees, I think, "Oh, this is the one that will piss them off." But no, just head shaking and "I know, I know." What would it take to get them to leave? Not that I want them to leave, but I just wonder. I don't know whether to respect or to just be dumbfounded by them.